


Bed of Nails

by louloubaby92



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, M/M, Medical Trauma, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Recovery, Shock, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-26 12:11:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 51
Words: 149,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5004337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louloubaby92/pseuds/louloubaby92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis has been keeping a secret for a very long time. The boys don’t know because he doesn’t tell them, not because he doesn’t want to but because he doesn’t think they need to know or be bothered by his troubled past. When they find out, they look at Louis differently. But Harry doesn’t. No, he loves Louis and will do anything in his power for his love to find its way through the cracks.</p><p> </p><p>Or the one where Louis has a troubled past that catches up to him and Harry does his best to save him from it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so this story is not for the faint of heart. Please heed the warnings in the tags. This is a dark story but in the midst of it, love fights its way up from the ashes to claim a hard-earned victory. If this story triggers you in some way, please don't read. I do not condone child abuse, rape in any form. This story represents the atrocity of that but also in the fact that with care and the right amount of love from close family and friends, I believe recovery can but may or may not prevail. I do not have any experience in the fields that the heavy tags represent. I am merely a writer inspired by too many readings and novels as well as research and true stories. Some events mentioned here are based on facts and one book in particular as well as a particular fanfiction inspired this whole thing which i will mention at some point. Once again, heed the warnings and proceed with caution.

_‘’We are all broken, that’s how the light gets in.’’_

_-Ernest Hemingway_

 

-Harry knows. He knows he fucked up his solo on their very first live performance of ‘’what Makes you beautiful’’ and he feels like shit. He cannot smile properly after, cannot accept compliments when he knows they’re just humoring him that it doesn’t mean anything because it’s not the truth. He fucked up; that’s the sad truth.

So he’s not surprised when Louis follows him later to their shared room suite that night, opting to comfort him than stay in the after party till midnight. Knowing Louis, he’d properly given Liam a stern lecture to make sure he, Niall and Zayn don’t stay too long. He’s a worry wart too, contrary to what their fans believe.

‘’May I recommend a glass of wine, dear sir?’’ is Louis’ opening statement when he pushes open the bedroom door. Harry chuckles wetly, having just read really nasty tweets from twitter trolls, dissing his solo failure tonight.

‘’Not in the mood, thank you.’’ Harry replies as he tucks his phone away but not signing off. Louis sighs. He puts the bottle of wine and the two glasses on the counter near the telly before approaching his best friend. He’s in a crisp black suit after having changed from his performance outfit for the after-party. It’s a shame, Harry thinks, he really liked the look of the braces and striped-shirt on Louis. But the suit is nice too, makes him look pristine and sharp. Louis doesn’t look drunk -not that he drinks as far as Harry’s concerned. Louis doesn’t even fancy beers, and the red wine is just for Harry’s sake, he knows that.

Louis plucks Harry’s phone from under the pillow where Harry stowed it before sitting up against the headboard. He pulls Harry in and Harry melts into it, tucking himself into Louis’ side, head on his chest.

Louis unlocks the phone and his eyes scroll down the nasty comments. He is calm though, even after Harry starts sniffing when he re-reads the words or catches glimpses of it. He hides his face further into Louis’ chest and shuts his eyes, trying not to well up and cry again. It was bad enough crying by himself, wallowing in his self-pity, it would be horrid to cry in front of Louis. He’d done enough of that back in the x-factor to last him a lifetime.

‘’Why were you reading this?’’ Louis asks. His arm tightens around Harry’s shoulders, but his voice is still calm.

‘’I fucked up,’’ Harry says. ‘’I know I did. They’re right so I shouldn’t be upset, I know th…’’

‘’No, they’re far from it, love.’’ Louis interrupts.

‘’They’re not; don’t humor me, Lou.’’ Harry demands weakly, eyes already welling up.

‘’Don’t insult me, Harold. I’d never lie to you.’’ Louis says sternly, grasping Harry’s chin gently and making him look up. Louis’ eyes are infinitely sweet and gentle, fierce blue in how angry he is at anyone who’s made Harry’s eyes sad and red-rimmed but loving towards Harry, and kind, always kind.

‘’I messed up, Lou.’’ Harry insists, his voice choked.

‘’You didn’t; you did your best, you worked hard, you were nervous sure, as you and I and all of the boys are entitled to.’’

‘’I was. I was just so nervous,’’ Harry admits, ashamed.

‘’Yes, I know that, your nerves got the best of you, but you pulled through and did the best you could so how is that not brave, hm? How could you beat yourself up for this?’’ Louis demands.

‘’Lou…’’

‘’Harry, what they’re saying is unacceptable.’’ Louis continues. ‘’They don’t know you, they don’t know a thing about how hard-working you are, how much you put into your solos and into you voice. So listen to me not them because I know you and I think that considering this to be our very first live performance of our very first single and the pressure that came with it, you did really great. Absolutely great, darling, alright?’’

Harry wants to cry if only so that his tears could hide the blush melting his face. He loves it when Louis calls him darling, loves it when he’s this sweet, this affectionate.

‘’Alright.’’ He says, holding Louis tighter, like a balloon, afraid to float away from the string tethering him to Earth.

‘’And if those twitter trolls hurt you, you let me know and I’ll have something to say to them in return.’’

‘’Lou, don’t.’’ Harry whines.

‘’No, love; they ought to hurt me first and not you, okay? Never you.’’ Louis says and ends the conversation when he tucks Harry into his neck and kisses the crown of his head several times before going quiet. A minute later, he turns on the telly to a Tom&Jerry episode which makes Harry chuckle but they watch in silence.

Harry cuddles into him, welcoming his warmth after such a hectic, bustling day. However, Louis’ last words nag at him. He didn’t say something like ‘’over my dead body’’ or anything as fiercely possessively protective. No, he said ‘’hurt me first’’ and the way he said it, it’s like he deserves it more than Harry, like its him they should come after not Harry or that he’d gladly take Harry’s place if it means Harry doesn’t get hurt.

It sounds odd, his phrasing, like it should’ve been something obvious, that even if he or Harry had done no wrong, Louis ought to be hurt first and foremost, ought to be the one they come after to burn to the stake. The thought causes shivers to crawl up his spine. He holds Louis extra tight that night.

If only he knew what Louis had meant because thinking back, Harry believes it should’ve been a clue right there and then. But no, he didn’t pay enough attention, and he will forever regret the moment he didn’t ask what Louis really meant.


	2. Chapter 2

_‘’Let hurricanes shake you apart,_

_And let the oceans scatter your essence._

_Let the rain weave you back into a beautiful disaster,_

_A startling riot of mistakes and love._

_Fear not,_

_You can never be lost._

_For you are a child of The Storm_

_And The earth._

_You need never be afraid.’’_

_-Prerana Kumar_

 

-To celebrate their band’s one-year anniversary, management decided to release a DVD called ‘’A Year in the Making.’’ It got the boys excited as they flipped through clips of their past year, wondering which one wasn’t too embarrassing to show, laughing at what the x-factor people caught them doing backstage.

Harry came across loads of clips of him and Louis. They had lots of fun running around from backstage handlers and pranking the other contestants and to have it all taped was somehow like a journal to Harry, where he can always look back at 18-yr-old Louis and see all the reasons why he fell in love with his best friend. However, the clip that he was very much intrigued by was Louis’ audition tape. Of course, not everything filmed was shown live and the footages he was flipping through had a lot of backstage access, including the one he came across.

It wasn’t exactly Louis’ audition tape; no it was the camera crew filming him while he sat backstage, waiting for him to be called up. Harry watched intently as the camera focused on Louis’ face and surprisingly, he didn’t look nervous, sitting alone amongst various other contestants, waiting for his turn. In fact, he was very still, staring off blankly. Harry wanted to zoom in on his face, wondering why Louis was pretty much non-responsive as people milled around him, walking back and forth trying to qualm their nerves and there Louis was, staring into space.

A girl with a pixie haircut then almost took a tumble, obviously not used to the high heels that she thought donning for the occasion would boost her looks and only then did Louis react, flinching so hard he almost fell off his seat. But then he recovered and like the gentleman that he is, he got up and helped the girl, apologizing for his stick of a foot.

After that, Louis was on full alert, watching people zoom in and out of his focus, eyes moving, as if anticipating danger.

It was all very strange and not once did Louis smile until Dermot approached him, saying his turn is up. Louis’ façade changed then, from edgy and almost frightened to confident and hopeful, with steel in his eyes and fear molding into strength. He gets his three yeses.

Harry doesn’t know what to make of it, and decided to ask Louis about it. Louis just shrugged, said it was probably because he went to the audition solo and had no one to support him. When Harry asked why he didn’t bring someone, Louis told him he would’ve been less focused. All his answers were short and clipped and in the end it didn’t matter. They don’t use Louis’ backstage footage, only a fragment of his reaction when he got an approval on his audition. The DVD was a mega hit.

 

 

-For all his bravado against that famous radio-dude who said Louis couldn’t sing and for all his big words against the fans who thought he was dispensable, Louis, behind the public eye, was never mad. In fact, he’d always shrugged it off when the boys tried to comfort him, always saying ‘ _’there are worse things in life, lads’_ ’. As far as Harry could remember, even back during the x-factor days when tension was high and Liam was still in his ‘solo-phase’ trying to control everyone, Louis was never bothered, always cool and collected, much more so than Liam would like to admit. Louis would tease back and share laughter just as much as he was quiet and secluded. The teasing made him click with Harry, the silence made him click with Zayn and everything in between clicked with Liam and Niall. He doesn’t see that is why the boys love him no matter how hard they try to show it.

Harry had always been infatuated with him, felt like the tail to the comet that was Louis, as the steel-blue eyed lad blazed the hallways and rooms he entered. But personally, Louis always kept to himself when it came to his own business and it was a bit frustrating how Louis can see through each and every one of them, but Harry can’t see past his walls in return. When they were in the Bungalow, hell, even in the car over, Louis looked at them like he was studying them, and it would’ve been creepy if he didn’t have this fond, brotherly look on his face. He’d put everyone at ease though and Harry grew closest to him, immediately attached. Harry talked, Louis listened but when he tried to return the favor, Louis just cooed at him, tucked him under his arm, and rocked him to sleep, and that continued as they hit the live shows, Louis chasing Harry’s nerves away, warmth filling the bunk bed they shared when Harry was too excited to close his eyes.

It was the same with the other boys too; whenever Liam wanted to apologize for being too bossy, Louis just waved it away, saying Liam is a good leader and it’s not really a bad quality. When Niall wanted to join Louis in his downtime to apologize for being too loud, Louis distracted him with food. When Zayn wanted Louis to join in on his smoke breaks so they could talk more rather than always be silent together, Louis would just shake his head fondly, saying he appreciates the silence.

 

But with Harry, it’s even worse. Sometimes, he’d feel guilty for having most of the attention focused on him solely than equally with his band mates and how Louis didn’t have as much solos as the rest of them but Louis would just chuckle, saying he didn’t mind being on the low-key, calling Harry ‘star shine’ and how he deserved his moments. It’s always like that with Harry, complements instead of accepting apologies, so unbothered rather than agreeing.

There never seemed a situation where Louis deemed their apologies necessary or that he deserved favors to be made for him. And it was so frustrating trying to give something back to the one person who was the best older brother, listener, shoulder-to-cry on in their group when Louis was so good at wheedling himself out of situations where he becomes the center of their attention.

It becomes almost a game even, especially when the boys had a talk about it, paralleled situations and came to the same conclusion. At some time, after the x-factor and they started to gain more popularity, Louis became fiercely protective; nudging Niall behind him so that he is sandwiched between him and Liam, keeping Harry in front of him so that he could keep an eye on him, keeping Zayn by his side so that he doesn’t stray away, making sure to always look behind him to make sure Liam is in place.

The boys noticed and yet, when they try to be just as protective, Louis shrugs it off. If Liam’s hand lands on his shoulder, he smiles up then stands straight, shrugging the hand off gently, as if to say; ‘’don’t need it, love. Am good, thank you.’ If Zayn drapes his arm around his shoulders, Louis’ eyes glint mischievously and he runs off as if to say, ‘’try to catch me.’’ When Niall tries to pull him off the road unto the curb, Louis drapes himself on the boy so that he is the one protecting instead of being protective. When Harry wraps his arm around Louis’ waist to get him away from crazy fan, Louis just smiles at him then he pushes Harry to the front, where he likes to keep Harry always.

Every gesture is replaced with a kinder, gentler one from Louis and it’s hard to keep up. Harry would have found it insulting almost if Louis wasn’t just so bloody unaware of it, too kind to a fault, almost deeming himself necessary to do better, that if the boys were being lovely to him, he needs to be lovelier in return. It becomes a routine, their day-to-day life and Harry doesn’t know how he can love him when Louis makes sure to love him so much better than he ever could.

 

-When Harry and Louis move in together, Harry is so happy he feels he could fly. He’d begged Louis so many times with a mantra of, ‘’Yes, Louis. I really want to live with you,’’ and ‘’you won’t be a bother, I love all your quirks and need for downtime,’’ as well as ‘’yes, Louis, you’re not interfering with my life, I want you in my life, you idiot,’’ and many more.

When Louis finally yielded, it was one of Harry’s happiest days. The other boys were their neighbors and it was a day to remember when they came over and helped Louis and Harry unpack- or more like, helped Harry unpack. Louis locked himself in his room so that he can unpack by himself and the boys were all too used to his seclusion-driven behavior.

‘’You better be ready for Louis to mother you to death. That’s gonna be nice.’’ Niall says as they sit around in the kitchen table with Chinese take outs and cans of beers. Louis is still upstairs, brushing off every knock on his door, asking if he needs any help, with his gentle, unbothered voice.

‘’As if,’’ Harry replies as he pops his can of beer open. ‘’Getting him to move in with me is my first step at turning the tables around.’’

‘’Oh do tell,’’ Zayn says in a posh, horrible version of a country-American accent making the boys snort.

‘’Oh he is in for a treat,’’ Harry snickered. ‘’Am talking about an all-out English breakfast prepared by yours truly, am talking about home-made meals and his laundry all done up. You know, stuff like that.’’

‘’I’d hate to burst your bubble, lad but I don’t think Louis is going to yield so easily.’’ Liam says reasonably, twirling his noodles with his chopsticks so as to swirl the soy he just spread in his carton.

‘’I know but him agreeing to move in is a big step and I want to cash in on it.’’ Harry replies.

‘’You’re just doing it for that though, right?’’ Zayn questions before his voice drops a notch and Harry knows what he’s going to say. ‘’You’re not doing it because he’s, you know, an orphan?’’

The subject of Louis being an orphan was rarely, if ever brought up. When Louis showed up to his audition, he came with two of his friends; Stan and Hannah so no one guessed about his family situation at all. During the X-factor, Louis rarely ever put focus on himself and whenever he talked about home, it was always about his friends or people he worked with during his part-time jobs.

Since he was already eighteen, Louis was the only one who didn’t need any parent signatures when it came to signing their contracts. It was only when they reached the top 3 and they were supposed to each visit their home town that the subject came up…

_They were sat in Simon’s office, discussing how on earth they’re gonna manage going to each of the boys’ hometown and it was going smoothly, especially when Ireland was a no-go considering the bad weather and the airport being closed._

_‘’So, let’s see.’’ Simon said as he scratched his chin. ‘’Harry, we’ll be going to your house, Zayn, we’ll make a show at your school’s theatre, Liam, we’ll go to your school gym and Niall, we’ll make a radio broadcast with Ireland FM and talk to some fans from there, yeah? That will be interesting. Now, Louis,’’ he directed his focus on said lad, who’d pitched in all the ideas for the other boys, excluding himself as usual. ‘’Doncaster is your place so any ideas? Perhaps at your home just as Harry’s to save up time, how about?’’_

_‘’I don’t think that’s going to work, sir.’’ Louis chuckled, blushing slightly. Harry can tell he’s uncomfortable, firstly because it’s rare that he ever is in front of Simon and second of all, having all eyes on him always makes him squirm. He wants to hold his hand, the way that Louis always holds his when he’s nervous but doesn’t want to do it in front of Uncle Si. ‘’My living quarters are quite small.’’_

_‘’Well, what’s wrong with that?’’ Simon raised a brow, but his tone was gentle, almost teasing._

_‘’Um, nothing wrong but…’’_

_‘’But?’’ Simon interrupts. He’s been at the meeting for close to two hours now and he needs the boys to rehearse._

_Louis looked Simon in the eye here, not afraid or hesitant much but actually sizing him up, as if wondering how he’s going to take in what Louis was about to say. Harry and the boys glanced between him and their mentor in silence._

_‘’Sir, I am not ashamed of who I am and the only reason I didn’t say this before is because these four boys here,’’ he gestured at Liam and Niall at his right and Harry and Zayn to his left. ‘’Are too talented to win this through pity votes.’’_

_‘’Alright.’’ Simon drawled. ‘’I agree with you, hundred percent. Tell me something I don’t know.’’_

_‘’Well,’’ Louis paused, sizing Simon one last time. ‘’The truth is, I’m an orphan.’’_

_The silence that followed was not long enough for this to sink in. And as Simon sat back in his chair in shock he tried not to show, trying to focus on sizing Louis up now, the Doncaster lad continued, breaking Harry’s heart bit by bit._

_‘’I’ve been an orphan since I was 14 and I’d appreciate it very much if you would kindly not meddle with my past as that is all I’m going to say about it. Anyway, according to the system, at 18, I am no longer the government’s issue so I picked up a job flipping burgers at the football stadium in Donny and the keeper there allowed me the basement as a place to stay until I could save enough money to get my own place. However, I’ve auditioned for the x-factor instead.’’ Louis chuckled here, cracking a slight smile from Simon. ‘’And now here I am. So, as much as I would love to invite the lads to my humble basement, I’d rather fill up the Keepmoat football stadium instead with the people of Donny and show them what One Direction’s made of, and why we deserve their votes to win.’’_

_Liam smiled at the last part, Zayn sat back in his chair in awe of Louis like he’s seeing him for the first time, Niall was confused because like the rest of them, he never would’ve have guessed Louis to be an orphan, not in a million years. And Harry, Harry just wants to hug this brave, brave boy and never let him go._

_Simon was quiet, brain working on overdrive. It was a staggering revelation and it was obvious to Simon that the other boys were discovering it just as he was, all new to the situation at hand._

_‘’You know,’’ Simon took a deep breath, breaking their chain of thoughts. ‘’No matter what happens after the finale, if you become superstars, the press are going to dig around and try to find the truth.’’_

_‘’They won’t find any,’’ Louis is unbothered much to Simon’s and the boys’ confusion but there is steel in his voice, willing what he said to remain true, that there truly is nothing to be found, which makes Harry think he is hiding something but then Louis explains;_

_‘’I got adopted two months before my eighteen’s birthday but I never actually stayed with the fam. However, I picked up their name so my name’s changed. It used to be Louis Austin but now it’s Louis Tomlinson and that’s what the press are going to find; Louis William Tomlinson, loving son to Jay and Mark Tomlinson, loving brother to four younger sisters. Nothing about my past.’’_

_‘’Your parents.’’ Harry speaks for the first time because what Louis is saying is just crazy. ‘’Your biological parents, are they…’’_

_‘’No need to bring that up, love.’’ Louis interrupts gently but it seemed forced, his calmness a really splendid act. ‘’Don’t really want to talk about it, yeah?’’_

_‘’I think Harry is trying to ask if they’re dead because if they’re alive, they can blow your story to the press.’’ Simon puts it bluntly much to Harry’s horror._

_‘’No, Uncle Si, that’s not…’’ Harry tries to explain, on the verge of tears because he doesn’t want Louis to feel hurt._

_‘’Well, my mom’s dead and my dad is in jail and I doubt they watch MTV UK in there.’’ Louis chuckles but it sounds false._

_Niall laughs with him for the sake of it, trying to diffuse the tension. Harry cannot tell if Louis is alright, if his bravado is fake, if his composed expression is a real one and not just a mask._

_‘’Well,’’ Simon pauses before he looks up at Louis. ‘’I guess for now, I see no point to worry about that. I do, however, agree with the stadium idea. Keepmoat stadium, it’s called?’’_

_‘’Yup, home of the Rovers. They’re gonna be great one day, sir. I promise you that.’’ Louis says proudly. The boys laugh; anyone who knows Louis ought to know he loves his beloved football team just as much as he loves Yorkshire tea._

_‘’Well, then. Keepmoat stadium it is.’’ Simons says with a smile._

It never came up again or at least not in the way Harry wanted to. He believes that issues like that of Louis’ ought to be spoken about in a heart-to-heart conversation and yet, Louis never really takes it seriously, takes it all in chill stride instead and diffuses it with jokes and puns until the subject is dropped. It’s a tactic, Louis’ way of avoiding talking about his issues. Harry always wants to push but it doesn’t feel right, not when Louis is so good to them so he falls for it. The boys fall for it too or simply let it slide because making Louis uncomfortable is the least thing they ever want to do.

But that day in that meeting room had stuck with Harry. It aches him, knowing that Louis has no family, is all alone, with nothing but a basement he can’t even call his own. The lad’s practically homeless, with nothing but a name his adopted family had so kindly allowed him to have.

Louis never talks about them except when asked and its never bad things. During the times when Harry inadvertently brought them up, Louis would sigh –he could always read Harry like an open book- Louis would always say how lovely the girls are and that he visits them from time to time. They’re so young so it’s easy for them to believe he is their brother, with just a bit of fib as to where he was since they were born. His adoptive parents are so kind, sworn to secrecy and all that. Harry knows no more than what he got out of Louis. Louis wouldn’t say anything more than that about his situation.

It bothers Harry a lot though because he wants Louis to have a house to call his home and he wants Louis to have a family. He wants to be Louis’ family. He tells Zayn as much.

‘’It’s different now, you know.’’ He continues. ‘’He has us. I want him to know that because he seems to act like he is still an orphan and while that is not something to be ashamed of, I also don’t see any shame in calling us his family, you know.’’

‘’Haz, Lou is not ashamed of us. It’s just, isn’t it a good thing that he’s accepting of the whole situation. He’s like, unbothered by the facts, you know? That’s not a bad thing.’’ Liam says logically.

‘’Yup, always unbothered.’’ Zayn mutters and Harry agrees with him.

‘’You know what I mean.’’ Liam tries to appease.

‘’What do you mean?’’ Louis says pointedly as he joins the lads in the kitchen.

‘’Oh nothing. Just bantering around.’’ Liam says casually.

Harry turns his head but Louis walks and stands behind him so he tilts his head back and looks up at Louis only to see the underside of his chin.

‘’Hey Lou.’’ He says in delight, hoping the subject will be dropped.

‘’Hey, love.’’ Louis drops a smacking kiss on the center of Harry’s forehead, making the boy giggle. Niall slides off his chair to the one next to him so that Louis could sit between him and Harry.

‘’Here, Lou. Have some ramen.’’ Niall pushes an untouched carton towards Louis.

‘’Thanks, mate.’’ Louis says as he takes the offered seat. Harry is smiling at him the way he always does; eyes glinting like Louis’ his own little sun, sitting there at their kitchen table, lighting up the room.

‘’So, how do you like your room?’’ Liam asks.

They talk around until Louis finishes his meal and gets up to throw away their rubbish. Harry then prepares the kettle to make Louis’ tea. He knows how Louis takes it; boiled water and just the tea bag, no milk or sugar. The boys move to the living room to play some x-box but Louis stays. He wraps his arms around Harry from behind and pops his chin on the boy’s shoulder.

‘’Make one for yourself too, yeah?’’ he says quietly. He always does this too, Harry thinks. Louis drinks more tea than the rest of the lads and would often be found wandering over to the food section making himself a cuppa and yet, he would never drink tea prepared by Harry or the lads unless they’re having one too because he doesn’t like it if they prepare a cuppa just for him. It’s an annoying quality as it is endearing.

‘’Sure, Lou.’’ Harry replies as he gets himself a second cup and places it next to Louis’. Louis is quiet for a bit, his arms warming Harry’s stomach and sides, warming his place in Harry’s heart.

Harry always feels grounded and tethered when Louis is around and it’s unbelievable to feel that way towards a boy he’d only just met a little more than half a year ago. Louis looks young and yet he’s so practical and mature when it comes to them, immature when it comes to their image and it’s all in good fun; interviews are lively, concerts are exciting, meeting fans are filled with delight. At the same time, he’s responsible when it comes to just the boys. He’d helped Zayn set up his bank account, helped Liam when it came to breaking his silence about Danielle and how to handle the media storm over the age-gap, helped Niall settle in from Ireland, making him feel less homesick, helped Harry weather his doubts and self-consciousness when he’d mess up a solo.

He’s always there for them, less there for himself. Harry wishes he could make him tea all the time without having to make one for himself, wants Louis to feel it’s not obligation but love.

Yes, he loves Louis and he wishes Louis could allow himself to be loved by Harry.

‘’Hazzie?’’ Louis says quietly as he presses closer into Harry, his face mushed into the side of his neck. Harry actually blushes and hopes the heat radiating from his face doesn’t push Louis away. Louis uses so many nicknames for him, calling him Haz or Hazza or Hazzie and every single one of them is quite unique. It makes him feel incredibly special, like now as they’re standing all alone in the kitchen.

‘’Yeah, Lou?’’

‘’Thank you for giving me a home. I love it here.’’

Harry’s glad he’s finished with preparing the tea as he turns around. Louis is looking at him with pride in his eyes and warmth in his smile. He’s got beautiful laugh lines.

‘’Yeah?’’

‘’Yeah, love. It’s wonderful here, especially with the boys close by. Hopefully it’s good for them too.’’

‘’Doesn’t matter as long as you’re happy.’’ Harry blurts out. Louis is opening up to him and that’s as rare as a sunny day in London. ‘’That’s most important.’’

Louis smiles. ‘’I am happy, love.’’ He doesn’t say more even though it seemed like it. He gets on tiptoes and kisses Harry between his eyes instead. ‘’You make me happy.’’

Harry can die now because he’s going to die a happy man, he thinks. He is actually speechless.

‘’Especially when you pout after I kick your arse in FIFA.’’ Louis chuckles. ‘’C’mon, let’s play, yeah?’’ Louis picks up his and Harry’s cup and Harry trudges behind him like a happy puppy.

They sit on the sofa, pressed close against each other as they watched Liam kick Zayn’s arse in FIFA. Harry felt no qualms as he wrapped his arm around Louis’ shoulders, holding his mug with one hand as he sipped his tea. Louis finished his first and when Liam won the game, he put his mug on the coffee table and picked up Zayn’s controller.

Harry watches him as he and Liam battle it off. While doing so, he thinks back on what Zayn said about Louis moving in and the whole ‘orphan’ thing.

It brings him back to their time at the bungalow, back to one particular night when he and Louis sat by the fire at his backyard…

_The rest of the boys had already gone inside the house, getting ready for bed. He and Louis were the only ones left and Harry was too comfortable to move away from being draped around Louis, arms around Louis’ tiny waist, head on his welcoming chest, two layers of wool blankets swaddling them up. Louis’ eyes were staring up at the drapery that was such a beautiful night, stars out on full blinding force._

_In the days they had spent cooped up in Harry’s step-dad’s bungalow, Harry had grown very infatuated with Louis, bordering a little above a normal crush. Louis was just all around protective all the time, holding Harry’s hips steady when he tripped over his feet, picking up his clothes after him, chastising gently about Harry’s need to be naked and leaving his clothes around for him to trip over. It’s startling, the way Louis is around him, actions never accompanied by words, even when Harry was obviously surprised about it and showing it, like he’s asking, ‘’How are you real?’’ and Louis not bothering to answer, merely showing._

_They talk quietly, with Harry’s eyes closed and somehow they land on what Harry wants to buy his parents as presents if they win the x-factor._

_‘’They’re good to you, right?’’ Louis asks when Harry squiggles closer, almost forgetting his train of thought._

_‘’Who, my parents?’’ Harry asks. He’s quite sure he was talking about buying his mum the new Toyota Corrola._

_‘’Yeah, your mom and your step-dad.’’ Louis emphasizes. Harry frowns though; Louis’ voice shows a bit of unguarded precaution, like he thinks Harry might lie to him. He opens his eyes and looks up to find Louis already staring at him, eyes not giving much away._

_‘’Yeah, Lou. They’re good to me. Best parents I could ask for really.’’ He answers honestly._

_‘’And your real dad? He good to you?’’_

_Honestly, Harry has the right to be bothered, he thinks but Louis sounds his usual protective self that it’s hard to be annoyed with him._

_‘’Yeah he is. Just because he and mom aren’t together anymore, doesn’t mean he stopped being my dad.’’_

_‘’A good dad though? That’s what’s important.’’_

_‘’He is a good dad.’’ Harry raises his eye brow. ‘’What are you trying to get at?’’_

_‘’I don’t know. Just asking, like, your step-dad gives you and your mates a bungalow all to yourself and he isn’t expecting anything in return, like, don’t you find that unusual? Or the fact that your dad is cool with your step-dad giving you things like that?’’_

_‘’Louis, my parents have a good relationship with each other, mutual respect and all that. And my step-dad loves me. They’re all good people, Lou.’’ Harry has to chuckle in order to ignore how Louis’ arms are almost crushing him in tightly, possessively protective._

_‘’Oh.’’ Louis says, loosening his grip._

_‘’Happy now?’’ Harry asks, genuinely asking. Louis blinks at him then smiles belatedly._

_‘’Happy for you, H.’’ he says then dips down and pecks his forehead before looking back at the sky. Harry stares at him for a long while, confused._

_‘What about your parents? Something specific you want to buy them if we win this thing?’’_

_He’s trying not to imagine it but Louis has actually tensed up and Louis knows that Harry knows by the furrowed brow that’s formed across the skin of his forehead. Louis keeps looking up though, even when he visibly swallows._

_‘’Don’t really know.’’ He answers casually, or as casually as he could, considering the little tremble in his voice._

_‘’Lou, you’re shaking.’’ Harry points out the obvious._

_‘’No, am just a bit cold.’’ Louis chuckles._

_‘’Oh, you wanna go back inside?’’ Harry asks because it is getting cold._

_‘’Sure, love.’’ Without another word on the subject matter, Louis drags them inside and tucks Harry in before kissing his cheek goodnight._

-After Louis revealed to them about being parentless, that odd conversation had finally made sense. It was logical for Louis to ask about his parents because of course he’d be curious, of course he’d want to know that Harry’s parents are good to him, that they won’t give him up or bail on him in anyway. But it makes something inside him knot and twist, wondering what Louis’ parents were like, wondering if they were good, if they expected things from Louis in exchange for being good parents to him.

He wishes Louis wasn’t so private about that aspect of his life, wishes he’d be open about it the way he is when it comes to his love for football, his love for KFC, his love for The Fray. He wonders if maybe it’s because he is selfish and he wants Louis to put him out of his misery by just telling him everything instead of making him wonder at night if Louis was hurt in his past and that maybe that is the reason why he doesn’t speak of it, how the reason he goes morose and quiet sometimes, pushing the boys away so that he could lock himself up in the bathroom or his room, has to do with some foreboding memory that keeps him tied up in his past instead of forthcoming about it in the present.

‘’Get in.’’ he jolts slightly when he hears Louis’ voice and looks up to see the boy high-five Zayn. He must’ve beaten Liam then as said lad throws the controller on the coffee table and gets up.

‘’I’ll get you next time, Tommo.’’ He says as he goes to the kitchen to grab a soda.

The day goes on and Harry pushes his thoughts away in order to enjoy a happy Louis, kicking their arses at FIFA.


	3. Chapter 3

_''If I didn't love you, it would be a betrayal against my heart.''_

_Dartanian, the man in the iron mask (1998)_

 

-There was no way for them to arrange a surprise birthday party for Louis without the lad skipping on them and hiding it out. It’s happened before at the end of the x-factor. When Christmas Eve was nearing, the boys and their families wanted to arrange a dinner together, book five big tables in a nice restaurant and celebrate his birthday with a monster of a cake and sing him happy birthday and all that. But a week before, Louis bailed to somewhere in Ibiza, saying he, Stan and Hannah -his co-workers back at Keepmoat- have made plans. Later on, when he’d come back a week after New Year’s, and they’d asked him how his vacation went, he said it was fun even though Hannah and Stan left two days before Christmas to spend it with their family.

Harry was appalled to know that Louis was all alone out there and it hit him then that Louis wanted to spend it alone and not bother anyone. Harry was too mad at him and yet he couldn’t bring himself to not talk to Louis and shun him away.

Therefore, Harry came up with the brilliant plan to sing Louis happy 20th birthday on stage. There would be nowhere to hide and Louis would have to suck it up, considering they’re gonna be in front of a massive crowd. Harry couldn’t wait for the show to roll around.

They’re sitting backstage in their dressing room, waiting for the to-go signal. They’re talking around, buzzing with excitement. Louis’ preparing tea and on show days, it’s usually not just for him. Even though they’ve got handlers to make them food and drinks, bring them games and anything they want, they’d rather do things themselves. Louis for one would not allow anyone but himself to make tea for the boys because there’s no way they’d get it just right. As much as Harry would prefer Louis to sit next to him, he does have to agree with Louis.

He does, however, keep the seat next to him empty, even stopping Zayn from raising his feet on the couch and lying down.

‘’Hey, Louis is sitting here, mate.’’ He says as he swats Zayn’s feet away.

‘Geez, Harry.’’ Zayn mutters. ‘’There are other chairs, you know.’’

‘’Sod off,’’ Harry replies, not in the least repenting.

‘’What? Is Master Louis going to whip you if he finds out his little puppy didn’t save him his seat?’’ Zayn teases.

‘’Oh, yeah. How is that working for you?’’ Liam asks joining in on the banter.

‘’Har, har, very funny.’’

They move from one topic to another and continue as Louis slides in like a friendly ghost. He doesn’t interrupt them as he balances a tray of mugs in one strong arm and passes cups around; lemon and ginger tea for Niall, coffee for Zayn, tea and three cups of sugar for Liam, cinnamon tea for Harry and black tea for himself. Harry watches him move, making sure he’s got everything steady.

Finally, when Louis sets the tray on the coffee table, Harry gently pulls him by the hip so that Louis sits right next to him and not in the center between Harry and Zayn.

Louis burrows under his arm and sips at his tea, holding his mug with both hands, warming himself up. Harry realizes he’s a bit cold to the touch, wearing his signature red and white three-quartered sleeves Vans shirt. So, he starts running his hand up and down Louis’ arm, trying to get him to warm up. Louis holds his cup with one hand and places the other on Harry’s knee, squeezing it as a sign of gratitude.

It hadn’t always been that way; Louis accepting comfort from Harry but since they’ve started living together, he’s been allowing it unintentionally, falling naturally to Harry’s gravity the way that Harry had seamlessly fallen into his. He’s still apprehensive most of the time, catches himself when he can and still does most of the caring but it’s nice how every once in a while now, he allows the favor to be returned even in the most subtle of touches and Harry will always take what he can get.

Liam and the other two notice but they don’t say anything. After all, Harry’s sweetness and Louis’ kindness towards each other is all natural and normal by now, cute and adorable and all.

After they’ve finished their tea, Louis gets up and collects the mugs. He doesn’t know how Harry tries to catch his hip to sit him back down as he moves too quickly to notice. The boys do but they just smile and thank Louis.

Harry pouts until he sees Louis coming back and smiles when Louis comes straight for him. This time, Harry pulls Louis unto his lap, surprising the older lad. But Harry says nothing, just keeps a firm grip around Louis’ waist and joins the conversation.

Louis just shakes his head then pecks Harry’s temple, keeping his face by Harry’s smooth cheek.

They remain that way until it’s time for the show and Harry and the boys share knowing looks, ready to ambush Louis with their big surprise.

 

Louis seems to know something is up and he looks ready to bolt as soon as the concert is finished, which makes Harry really excited knowing that he won’t be getting away this time.

Before singing ‘’tell me a lie’’, he gets the signal from Liam and talks into his mic.

‘’So, there’s something important I wanna say and I hope you can all bear with me on this one before we sing the next song.’’ He says to the massive crowd of girls, Louis behind him, standing next to Zayn.

‘’It’s great to be back here, great to be home. And I’d like to share this moment with all of you here right now. You see, tomorrow to many people is New Year ’s Eve. Sorry, I mean, Christmas eve.’’ He stutters his apology as he catches Louis’ eye, realization dawning on his features but Harry continues on. ‘’But to even more people, tomorrow is Louis’ birthday.’’

The crowd screams in delight and Harry can’t tell if Louis is blushing under the stage lights since shock and surprise is what he can see. He doesn’t know if it’s in a good way or a bad way.

‘’So, I’d like you all to join me and the lads in singing happy birthday to our Louis here and when it comes to his name, I want you all to say, ‘Boo Bear’.’’ He hears Louis groan into his mic and notices a shy, nervous smile light up his face. Harry feels relief that Louis at least does not seem mad.

‘’Alright, ready? Three, two, one…’’

They sing Louis happy birthday and the boy takes in stride, even though he’s clearly embarrassed. Zayn wraps an arm around his shoulders and eases him and Harry is jealous that Zayn is doing the comforting not him. But Louis looks happy and Harry couldn’t feel more accomplished than he does in that moment.

Later on, when they’re heading off stage, Louis doesn’t mention the whole thing. He’d thanked the boys on stage in front of their audience but that’s about it. It made the boys take a step back and not mention it either; hoping Louis would talk to them first.

 

They’re in their tour bus, headed for their hotel room, where they’d stay for just one night, to shower, clean up and sleep. Louis is sat by the driver with his phone pressed against his ear, talking to Stan. Harry and the boys gathered in the lounge, worried that they’d taken matters too far.

‘’He couldn’t have faked it, right?’’ Niall whispers, even though they’re sure Louis is far enough not to hear them.

‘’Of course not.’’ Liam says quickly but then relents. ‘’Or maybe he did. I mean, we’ve kinda put him on the spot, didn’t we?’’

‘’Shit, I hope he’s not mad.’’ Zayn mutters, burning holes into the back of Louis’ seat, wondering what’s going on in Louis’ head.

‘’I feel so stupid.’’ Harry croaks, worried to the core. ‘’This is all my fault. I’ve made him uncomfortable.’’

The boys try to soothe him but Harry couldn’t be bothered. He wants Louis happy and he feels he did the exact opposite.

As soon as Louis finishes his call, he moves towards them. The boys scramble to act normal, like they weren’t waiting for him to pounce. Niall turns on the x-box and throws a controller at Liam. Zayn opens up his twitter and zeros in on his phone. Harry is not as quick so he just sits back and pretends to look out the window.

Louis sits next to him and rests his head on Harry’s shoulder. Harry remains very still.

‘’Hazzie?’’ Louis says after a while. Harry wants to breathe a sigh of relief. The awkward silence was killing him.

‘’Yeah, Lou?’’ he says as he turns his head slightly.

‘’Don’t ever do that again.’’ Louis says quietly. There’s no bite in his words, no resentment but Harry understands immediately what he’s talking about and somewhere in Harry’s chest smarts at the thought of how much he’d fucked up tonight.

Harry turns fully as Louis stands up. He’s about to apologize but Louis just holds his face gently before he bends and lands a sweet kiss atop his mane.

‘’I’m knackered. You gonna stay up for a while?’’ he asks. He stands up straight and looks fondly at Harry.

‘’Um…’’ Harry doesn’t know what to say.

‘’Well?’’

‘’Lou, I am so sorry…’’

‘’Love, that’s not what I asked.’’ Louis interrupts. He doesn’t look upset. Why is he not upset?

‘’Are you upset with me?’’ Harry asks desperately, looking up at Louis from where he’s perched on the edge of his seat. He’s holding the back of Louis’ knees, seeking the truth.

‘’Love,’’ Louis sighs. ‘’I’m not upset. I just don’t want you to do that again, alright? I love you. I’m not upset.’’ He repeats because Harry looks like he’ll cry.

‘’Louis,’’ Zayn gives up the act of looking at his phone. Even Niall and Liam have paused their game.

‘’I know what you’re going to say, Z.’’ Louis turns around but not fully because Harry holds unto the back of his knees, not letting go. He buries his face in Louis’ stomach, ashamed of himself. He knows the other boys are going to blame themselves with him but he’s certain it’s not going to help the guilt go away.

‘’Louis, it’s not his fault, we all…’’

‘’Zayn, I know.’’ Louis interrupts in that sweet, tired voice of his. ‘’I know you all joined in and I also know that you all heard me just now. What I said applies to all of you, alright? I don’t want what happened on stage today to have a repeat next year or any year after that. If celebrating my birthday is that important to you, then fine,’’ he sighs, exasperated and it’s so obvious once again that what he’s about to do is not for him. He never does anything for himself, always for others and Harry hates this, hates that he’s tainted celebrating Louis’ birthday and turned it into a need of his. ‘’Let’s have it but I want it just between us and no one else, let alone an entire audience.’’ Harry winces because he can feel the tension in Louis’ hands now neatly placed on his shoulders.

‘’Yes but when we tried that, you flew to Ibiza, Lou.’’ Liam steps in. Louis turns around fully now and sits next to Harry on the couch. Harry sits close and holds Louis’ hand, trying to diffuse his apology into the touch.

‘’That is up to me, not up to you. I will not be forced into celebrating my birthday, lads. Is that clear to all of you?’’ his tone is even, wary and Harry’s had it.

‘’Why not?’’ Harry says, a little bit too blunt as he sits up straight. ‘’Why don’t you want to celebrate your birthday, Lou?’’

Louis is surprised but undeterred. ‘’I have my reasons and…’’

‘’Tell us, then.’’ Harry interrupts rudely. ‘’Tell us your reasons.’’

Louis is tense, his palm has gone sweaty. The other three are watching this show-down unfold even though Louis is hardly arguing back and Harry seems to be the only one furious.

‘’Darling,’’ Louis says with a hint of pleading and warning fused in his voice. ‘’I love you, and I’d do absolutely anything for you, all of you.’’ He throws that in with a sweeping glance to all of them before landing his blue eyes back on Harry and it hurts. It hurts that the only kind of love he has with Harry is the exact same love he has for the others, nothing more, nothing as deeply-rooted as his love for Louis. ‘’But you’ve got to give me this, please. Some things are just not meant to be spoken of, alright? Not anymore and I will not bring this up, not until I’m ready in my own right. Is that clear?’’

Harry feels like gravity has just been pulled from underneath him. It had never occurred to him, not in a million years, that he’d actually reduce Louis to begging him. It’s the worse feeling to behold and he feels properly disgusted with himself.

‘’Alright.’’ Liam is the first to speak. Louis doesn’t turn his scorching gaze from Harry until Liam coughs to get his attention. Louis turns.

‘’Never again, Lou. We promise.’’ Liam says as he stands up and offers his hand. He wants to shake on it.

Louis nods solemnly. He heaves himself up and walks towards Liam, hugging him instead of accepting the handshake.

‘’Thanks, Li.’’ He whispers.

‘’You’re welcome.’’ Liam says quickly, keen to appease, and hugs Louis back tightly.

Niall stands up, his fingers wriggling, eager to hug too. Louis turns and accepts it, chuckling a bit at Niall’s eagerness to please. Zayn shakes his head but gets up too, hugs Louis after Niall releases him.

Harry is numb, though. Doesn’t know how to out-do them. But Louis is unbothered. He walks up to Harry, pulls him up and goes for his bunk bed after throwing a quiet ‘’good night’’ to the boys behind him. Once they’re out of sight, he starts to gather up his P.J.s then heads for the bathroom to change. Harry sighs but he changes out of his clothes until he’s down to his boxers. He gets in his bunk and waits for Louis to join him. Louis never undresses in front of them, even when they’re in the dressing room or in break during concerts; he’s quick to rush to a secluded corner or the nearest bathroom in order to change. Harry thinks it’s just a part of who he is, modest and humble, shy about his physique and all that. Harry wishes he could tell him how beautiful he is by using poetics and grand gestures but he doesn’t think Louis is very good at accepting compliments. He tries to anyways, in small, little ways, likes how it makes Louis blush high in his cheekbones.

He tries to think of Louis’ reasons, about finding means to tear his walls down. Louis’ thoughts are so private and secluded that Harry feels guilty at trying to poke at them. But he wants to know. He wants to find out the reason why Louis holds himself so tight he looks like he’d burst sometimes or cave in with the invisible weight of his past on his shoulders. He never talks about it, and it always seems like it’s because he deserves it, deserves his burden and Harry wishes he could undo that and just make Louis happy. He just wants him happy.

When Louis comes back, he slips into Harry’s bunk and lies down on his side so his head is on Harry’s chest and his hand wrapped securely around his waist. Harry pulls him close, like second instinct and tucks the blankets around them.

‘’I’m really sorry, Lou.’’ He whispers, hoping Louis can see how genuine he is.

‘’I know you are.’’ Louis replies.

‘’Do you want to talk about it?’’ He ventures even though he knows the answer already.

‘’I’m tired, love. You too, you need to rest.’’

‘’Okay.’’ Harry sighs. There’s no point in pushing Louis to talk especially when he really is tired and not because he is unwilling.

‘’Good night, love.’’ Louis says through a quiet yawn. Harry just pulls him closer as he slips his eyes shut. He’s forgiven, he knows and that’s enough to say. ‘’Good night, Lou.’’ And fall asleep.

 


	4. Chapter 4

_‘’You’re so quiet/ you’re almost/ tomorrow.’’_

_-Ocean Vuong_

-After the release of their ‘’One Thing’’ video, Harry starts to notice a strange pattern in Louis’ behavior. Ever since the birthday incidence, he’s been paying a much closer attention than before and it’s different, completely different what he starts to see as opposed to what he wanted to see. Before, he always looked at Louis like this role-model; perfect, untainted, unblemished. Now, it’s like Louis is human, capable of feeling bad and sad and all things that Harry never ever wants him to feel.

When Louis wants some quiet down time, he reads and it’s nothing unusual for him to carry a book around or to be seen with one. So when Harry or the boys see him sitting in the lounge with a book in his hands, it’s because he doesn’t want to be disturbed. It’s nothing unusual as they all have means of seeking silence; Zayn with his smokes, Liam and his affinity for hitting the gym, Niall and his guitar and Harry lighting up scented candles and falling asleep to the smell of home. In Louis’ case, its books. He loves reading plays and sonnets, poems and history books. Never thrillers or romance, no; his books are somehow the quiet type too.

However, lately, when Harry glances at him, Louis’ eyes aren’t even on the book at all. Louis is one of those people that trace sentences to follow the words and so, when Harry would catch sight of his finger unmoving and Louis’ eyes staring off, it was just strange. Sometimes he’d sit like that for hours, hand posed mid-sentence. Whatever page he’s on is left unturned for longer than usual before some noise snaps him out of it. Louis usually just returns to reading, but these days instead of doing that, he just closes his book and gets up to have a lie down in his bunk.

Another thing that he probably should’ve noticed a long time ago is that Louis doesn’t ever undress in front of them, like, _ever_. He seeks purposeful measures to avoid it too. If he wants a change of shirt, he never does it during the interlude between songs backstage. No, he’d do it mid-show, when he’ll tell Liam through his mic that he’ll just go backstage to pop for a wee and when he’d come back, he’s wearing a new shirt, sweat-drenched free.

 

Harry thinks that maybe during the Bungalow, he was excused as they were still getting to know each other, so being uncomfortable being half-naked was okay to accept from Louis, from the others too.

During the x-factor, there were too many people always running around so it was hard to notice who was showing skin and who wasn’t. During the x-factor tour, it was the same, what with the other contestants mulling around and goofing off in the dressing room.

But now, headlining their own show, Harry had expected Louis to be comfortable enough in his own skin, at least in their presence. He’s not asking Louis to like, walk around in his underwear or be comfortable naked the way he is but the other lads have no qualms about undressing together in one room in between the shows or throwing a shirt off when it’s too hot to keep it on.

Not only does he finally notice this strange behavior from Louis, but he starts to realize that Louis never wears T-shirts. He’s always in long-sleeved outfits, cotton and soft when it’s hot but long-sleeved nonetheless. Out of all of them, Louis and Zayn are probably the most London-ish and Louis has always said that winter is his favorite season ever, but in the heat of Phoenix, it’s hard not to be suspicious when he sees his best friend donning a long sleeved white shirt and sweating through it rather than just putting on a tank top or a t-shirt like the rest of them.

He talks to Liam about it, asking him if he’s noticed something strange about Louis recently, but the thing is, even Liam is having a hard time adjusting to touring the US. They’re all homesick and with the change in weather, even Harry forgets Louis' issues to focus on his own. They’re all worn out and it doesn’t fly pass their management team, which soon, leads to Louis telling Paul that he suspects they’re coming down with the flu. When Paul calls in a doctor to give them a normal check-up, it ends with them getting flu shots, Harry getting one in his left arse-cheek. It will make for funny headlines, Harry thinks.

‘’Louis didn’t get his shot.’’ Zayn says, rubbing the bent of his elbow as he joins Harry and Liam. Niall hates needles so Louis is sat with him in the lounge, holding his hand and soothing him after the doctor had administered an injection for Niall. The rest of them are standing outside the bus, waiting for the doctor to finish talking with Paul and be done with his work.

‘’What do you mean he didn’t get his shot?’’ Liam asks. Harry is surprised as well; Louis had sat with each of them as they got their shots, sat as calm as a muffin when Harry held his hand so tight as the doctor pressed his syringe into Harry’s arse muscle. No way after witnessing all his band mates get their injections ought to make him back out of his.

‘’I don’t know. Before Niall picked up his balls from the floor and got his shot, I heard Louis talking his way out of it.’’ Zayn says.

‘’What the…? Why does he get out of it and we don’t?’’ Harry whines. It doesn’t seem right.

‘’Don’t know. You ask him.’’ Zayn shrugs it off. Liam and Harry look at each other before mutual understanding takes place. They head for the front door of the bus just as the doctor and Paul were coming off.

‘’Why didn’t Louis get a shot?’’ Harry blurts out without thinking.

The doctor looks at him, darts a look at Paul before looking back at Harry.

‘’Patient-confidentiality agreement, kid. Can’t answer you.’’ He says kindly. Harry furrows his brow as he watches the doctor shake hands with Paul then leaves.

‘’Look, it’s not a big deal.’’ Paul tells him. ‘’He said Louis doesn’t need it, so…’’

‘’But isn’t it precautionary to take it?’’ Liam asks.

‘’Look, I’m sure the doctor knows what he’s doing. He knows better.’’ He says in a tone that ends the conversation. Harry and Liam look at each other before Liam sighs and shrugs.

‘’I’ll go check on Niall.’’ He says then gets inside the bus, leaving Harry confused and worried.

They don’t talk about it because fans start to surround the bus so he and Zayn remain outside to greet them. Soon, they have rehearsals, interviews and time flies by. But Harry cannot help but wonder if maybe the reason why Louis didn’t want to take his flu shot has to do with him not wanting to raise his sleeve and show his skin to a perfect stranger, professional he may be.

 

-Back in the X-factor, whenever he and Louis cuddled up in the same bunk and fallen asleep tangled up in each other’s arms, he never thought it strange when he’d wake up and Louis is not there. Louis has always been a morning person, always up at the crack of dawn, already sipping his tea in the kitchen. Well, that’s what Harry thought anyways.

The boys teased him about it, saying that Harry was such a baby for needing Louis that way. It was probably the week before they reached the top three that Harry had had enough of their teasing and told Zayn that he loves Louis and that is why he doesn’t like it when the lad is not there. Zayn didn’t really know what to say so he got Niall and Liam to the room and they asked Harry to talk about it. In the end, Harry realized, that even though he has never dated a boy in his life, that he indeed has a massive crush on Louis. He starts to panic, has no idea what to do about his new-found revelation but the boys assure him that no matter what, if loving Louis makes him bi or whatever, they still love him and would always support him.

The boys since then, as requested, never pushed Harry into talking about his feelings towards Louis and Harry was truly grateful. Even now, there are times when Harry doubted his feelings for Louis were more than just a huge crush, a deep infatuation with his best friend who shared his affinity for cuddles and pranks. Harry sometimes thinks he ought to just wait it out, as crushes usually fade away but then, there are times when Louis would just be so wonderful, so absolutely breath-taking and he cannot help but wonder if maybe his feelings run deeper than a crush after all.

The way he pays attention to Louis now is even worse than before, and sharing so much personal space in their tour bus, his proximity with Louis has made him so attuned to him, to his every move, even in the strangest hours. Like now, with his biological clock twisted from jet-lag and from travelling from one country to another, Harry finds himself waking up at odd intervals of time and it’s quite unsettling after such an exhausting show like the one they’d just had earlier. He finds himself tossing and turning, trying to get comfortable in the bunk bed that won’t accommodate to his sudden growth spurt and so his legs have to always be bent. He’s huffing, wishing for a bed in a hotel room when he hears sniffling.

He blinks in the dark, trying to make out the source of the vulnerable sound. It gets accompanied by heavy breathing, gasping then a very distinct keening sound.

Harry is now wide awake, getting up and following the noise. It’s not coming from above him where Louis’ bunk –his first instinct is to always check for Louis first, always -or from the bunks of the lads. It’s coming from the lounge near the front of the bus. He pads towards it and there, hunched and crying is Louis.

He’s in his signature grey sweat pants and a white long-sleeved cotton shirt. The light from the passing street lamps across the dark highway they’re driving through illuminates the silent tears streaming across his face. It tugs Harry forward, landing on his knees in front of Louis’ form and what he sees up close terrifies him.

Louis’ eyes are wide open and glazed over. He’s rocking back and forth, his fingernails grazing his thighs in the same rocking pattern, scratching across his sweatpants, sharp enough that Harry knows he’s breaking skin.

When he looks up, Louis is muttering something and Harry doesn’t know how the lad hasn’t noticed his presence yet. Sure, Niall had caught Louis sleep-walking one time but this isn’t the same. Louis’ eyes are wide-open and he isn’t reacting to Harry approaching him at all. He isn’t playing up a joke, either, no; he looks scared out of his mind. Then Harry hears Louis’ ragged breathing, the slurred words, full of fear.

‘’Stop crying, please stop crying.’’ Louis is saying, begging himself when he’s obviously been crying for who knows how long. Harry is shocked; he’s never ever seen Louis like this. Sure, he’s been strange lately, anxious and spacy but that’s a given considering they’re all dealing with stress in their own way too, with Zayn smoking like a chimney, Liam and himself going to the gym like crazy and Niall eating his weight in sugar. Harry knows Louis had been stressed out lately, with paparazzi and fans ganging up on them when they leave every venue they perform in, having to duck under flashes and getting mobbed at every state they go, every store they try to enter and blend in with but just like the rest of them, Louis’ been fine, has been able to handle it like a champ. They’ve all found outlets and he’d always thought Louis found his in reading classic novels.

He knows that Louis struggles with the attention and tries to take it out on them the only way he knows how; by being overprotective of the boys. Even when he’s tired, if Niall wants to go to a nightclub, he goes with him, just to make sure he doesn’t make drunken mistakes, or drink at all since he is illegal in the states, much to Niall's dismay. If Zayn wants to go out and walk around after midnight, when the streets are empty and he can taste some freedom, Louis goes and gets lost with him and takes the fall when they have to call their security to come and find them. When Liam needs a break from photo-shoots, tired of being the mature, responsible one, Louis takes him behind the studio or whatever building they’re in and tosses a football between them for a while. When Harry gets mobbed, he’s the first to comfort him and cuddle him. He’s always giving so much of himself and the boys need him so much, it’s hard to see that he’s not strong enough when it comes to himself.

Right now, Harry is afraid to touch because Louis doesn’t look like himself, too locked up in his own head. Harry needs to reach him.

‘’Louis.’’ He says as calmly as possible. Louis gasps, a little bit aware of someone else’s presence but still, his eyes are glazed over.

‘’Louis, listen to me. I’m here. Come back to me, love.’’ Harry continues. He gets his hands around Louis’ ankles, softly touching only.

It startles a reaction out of Louis; he shakes his head, fresh tears in his eyes, the swaying, rocking motion of his body doesn’t stop but it slows down. However, his nails are still scratching back and forth and that is not a good sign.

‘’Louis,” Harry says. “It’s okay, I’m here, it’s okay.”

‘’Stop crying…’’ Louis’ words are breathless, his tears silent.

“Listen to me, Lou.’’ Harry tries to be stern. ‘’It’s gonna be okay.” he say more insistently, sitting up straighter. He takes Louis’ shoulders and physically tries to make him come back by shaking him out of it. Louis looks up quickly, almost bumping Harry’s chin with his head and he looks ready to shrivel. He’s never seen eyes so mortified, so unimaginably scared.

“Louis,” he says sharply, because now he’s scared he’s done something really horrible.

Louis stops breathing immediately. His hands freeze mid-thigh, blunt nails digging in as he stares at Harry.

‘’Hazza,’’ he finally gets out.

‘’Lou,’’ Harry says carefully, keeping very still. Louis looks away, his brow puckered; confused. His nails are still digging into his skin so Harry cautiously circles his wrists and holds them besides Louis’ legs, resting them on the couch. Louis breaths out; worn out.

‘’I’m sorry.’’ He apologizes, slumping back against the couch, his eyes downcast and tired.

‘’No, not your fault.’’ Harry says quietly then, because he can’t help but ask, ‘’Nightmare?’’

Louis nods, shrinking in on himself.

‘’Hey, it’s over.’’ Harry assures him, rubbing his thumbs across the outside of Louis’ wrists. ‘’You’re alright. Bad dreams happen, okay?’’

‘’Didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.’’ he says in a small voice.

‘’I couldn’t sleep anyway, not your fault.’’ Harry reasons. Louis looks at him for the first time, direct and eyes clear. It’s almost dawn and the sky outside is getting lighter. Louis looks pale, his eyes bloodshot, his body slumped, looking defeated.

‘’Why couldn’t you sleep?’’ he asks in a whisper. Harry wants to laugh; of all times to worry about Harry, this is the least of it.

‘’Not used to the different time zones.’’ Harry tells him warily. ‘’Can we focus on you now?’’

Louis exhales a tired laugh. He looks about to topple over.

‘’Can we do that later? I want to sleep.’’

‘’Okay.’’ Who is Harry to refuse him?

Louis nods but doesn’t move. Harry bites his lip. He’s still a bit taken aback by what just happened and he can’t help but ask, ‘’Or you could tell me what you dreamt about? If you want?’’

As he expected, Louis shakes his head. He slumps further until he gets himself sideways on the couch and lies down, head on the armrest, back to back with the couch. He holds himself small and closes his eyes, exhaling a tired breath.

‘’Go to sleep, Haz. Talk later.’’

‘’No, I’ll wait. You go ahead.’’ Harry wants to make sure he’s alright. Louis doesn’t say anything as he immediately dozes off. Normally, he’d convince Harry to go ahead and sleep but he looks genuinely exhausted. Once Harry is sure he’s asleep, he gets up, pulls down Louis’ blanket from his top bunk bed and covers Louis’ huddled form. He sits on the edge of the couch and looks at Louis, wondering what on earth just happened?

-He had decided to tell the boys during breakfast, especially when they all noticed Louis on the couch but it didn’t sit well with him. First of all, he wants to know what Louis was dreaming about. Second of all, he doesn’t want to betray Louis’ trust. Sure, he didn’t exactly promise not to tell but still, it’s not right, giving him away like that.

Half an hour later and they’re still lounging around the kitchen table, just talking and bantering. Louis comes in right when Harry was looking for the courage to tell and not just hide things from the boys. Louis as usual stops that by his mere presence. He looks at Harry and hesitates. Then he turns his back to them to start up the kettle. It makes Harry shiver from unease, wondering what’s going on in Louis’ head, worried. When he’s done making his tea, Louis takes the seat across from him. Time stands still as Harry stares blatantly at him and when Louis looks up and they lock eyes, Harry stops breathing altogether. He wonders if his emotions are written all over his face because then, Louis just seems to know what he wants. He opens his arms for him hesitantly, not exactly sure what he’s doing. Harry melts, _finally_ , and goes straight for it. He sits on Louis’ lap sideways and hugs Louis with arms around the shoulder, pressing his face into Louis’ cheek. It doesn’t matter that his limbs are all gangly and that he is now two inches taller than Louis, it doesn’t matter if the chair beneath them creaks under their weight. None of that matter when Louis holds him the way he always does; fond, loving and gentle. Always gentle.

‘’Thank you,’’ he whispers so quietly, it’s barely audible.

‘’No. Thank you, for last night. You’re the best, darling.’’ Louis whispers back. Harry hugs Louis tight around the shoulders, trying to hide his blush in Louis’ neck and wondering if Louis can feel the warmth from his cheek but he doesn’t care. He just presses as close as possible and all the tension from Louis’ body and his slowly but gradually seeps out.

‘’Everything alright?’’ Zayn drawls, breaking the awkward silence.

Louis nods, jostling Harry’s curls in his cheek. Harry’s face still tucked and hidden but then he pecks Harry’s cheek and it makes Harry pull back. He sees Louis smiling, and he looks like an angel.

‘’Everything’s perfect.’’ Louis says as he goes about to drinking his tea and having his breakfast, keeping Harry in his lap with one arm secure around his waist.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, this is the last update of the night. just a short one though; my fingers are quite tired hahahaha. i cant wait for ''perfect'' to come out tomorrow and the shit storm excitement thats gonna follow. my next update will be before tuesday so no worries. oh and i forgot to mention this but title of this fic is from bon jovi's song ''bed of roses.'' a classic song, that one. anyways, enjoy.

_“Patience does not mean to passively endure. It means to be farsighted enough to trust the end result of a process. What does patience mean? It means to look at the thorn and see the rose, to look at the night and see the dawn.''_

_Elif Shafak, The Forty Rules of Love_

_  
_

-Throughout the day, Harry and Louis are glued to each other, walking around the venue, doing crazy shit to their crew, throwing fruit at them, scattering around water bottles and towels. They lock themselves inside their dressing room, hiding from Paul when Louis tells him that it was just a bad dream, sensing from Harry’s side-way glances that he’s been thinking about it. So, he explains briefly before ducking out of the room and puts Harry at ease, telling him it’s the stress just kicking in and it’s convincing so Harry doesn’t ask for details. He likes loud Louis at the moment, the one running like a crazy man across the hallway as Paul lunges for him and Harry watches from the door and laughs. He wants to enjoy this, the whole letting go, the being carefree and just enjoying life. The boys are exasperated but soon they too join in and start messing up their musician’s dressing room with cut-up water melons. It gets a kick out of them.

That night, their concert is lively and fun. They keep throwing water at each other, Louis going so far as dumping an entire bottle allover Liam, running after him till the bottle’s empty. During Harry’s solo, he sprays cold water all over them, shocking Zayn into pointing it out. Harry laughs so hard during the twitter section at some remark Louis whispered in his ear, that he has to turn his back to the crowd to calm himself. It’s one of the best nights of his life.

 

-‘’So,’’ Zayn starts. They’re out in the balcony in their hotel room for the night. Liam, Niall and Louis are having a ‘’Lord of The Rings’’ marathon on Niall’s laptop. Louis had snuck out and bought popcorns much to the boys’ delight and Harry can hear them munching on it as Aragorn says something grand and kingly-like. Since Harry had gone through the whole thing back in school, he decides to join Zayn out in the balcony instead who’d opted out of the whole thing altogether in favor of some quiet time. Of course, Zayn had to stop smoking for him but he’s always up for a bro chat.

‘’What’s up?’’ he asks. They’re sitting on two rocking chairs with a table between them rather than standing up to see the view below. There are fans outside and they don’t want to risk leaning over the rail and getting caught.

‘’Not much. Had a good time tonight.’’ Harry amends. He did have a good time tonight.

‘’Yeah, it was fun.’’ Zayn is a man of few words but that’s why Harry likes talking to him; he’s a good listener.

‘’Yeah.’’

‘’Didn’t like the mob after though. They’re so many sometimes, you know?’’ Zayn says after a quiet moment.

‘’It’s very stressful.’’ Harry agrees. They got mobbed outside the venue and also outside their hotel upon entrance. Harry is starting to get used to it but it’s still quite surreal.

‘’Sometimes I can’t sleep at night,’’ Harry continues. ‘’The ringing is still in my ears, somehow, like…’’

‘’Yeah, I know what you mean.’’ Zayn says, fully understanding.

‘’Louis had a nightmare because of it. The stress.’’ Harry adds and he’s not sure why he brings it up. Maybe because it’s still fresh in his mind or that it’s been in the back of his head, he doesn’t know but it’s out there now.

‘’When was this?’’ Zayn asks, concerned.

‘’Last night.’’

‘’Is…that’s not the first time, right?’’ Zayn asks, looking at Harry.

‘’First time I wake up because of it.’’ Harry looks back. ‘’Why? What do you mean?’’

‘’He’s been having trouble sleeping lately. I saw him get up a couple of times before. Didn’t think much about it.’’

‘’Oh.’’ Harry pauses. ‘’Did you hear anything weird though?’’

‘’No, but both times I just rolled over and fell back asleep easily so,’’ he says apologetically.

‘’I see.’’

‘’You should talk to Liam, though. I think he mentioned something about this.’’

‘’Liam? What does he have to do with this?’’

‘’Well, Liam told me once that he saw Louis get up in the middle of the night back in the x-factor, like too many times to count, and there are mornings, you know, when Liam would go for his runs, when he’ll find Louis sleeping on the couch in the common room, back when we were in the x-factor house. He said he thinks Louis is very hyperactive, so maybe that’s why he can’t sleep sometimes; like he gets too fidgety or something, anxious to move. Maybe, I don’t know. You should talk to him.’’

And Harry doesn’t know what to make of this because then it means Louis was right; it’s just stress talking that brought out the nightmare, nothing more.

But then…

‘’He was saying something weird though.’’ He starts, filing the ‘Liam’ part for later. ‘’When he had his nightmare last night. I heard him.’’

‘’What was he saying?’’

‘’It was so weird. He kept telling himself to stop crying. And he was crying, it was…’’

‘’He was crying?’’ Zayn interrupts; quietly concerned.

‘’Well, he was having a bad dream. Looked like it scared the bloody hell out of him.’’ Harry reasons.

‘’Oh.’’

They’re quiet for some time while their thoughts whirl and stir in their minds.

‘’It’s probably just the stress talking.’’ Zayn concludes. ‘’And the fact that Louis is probably giving himself a really harsh pep-talk these days, thinking he needs to keep his shit together to support us or something. You know how he hates being weak in front of us.’’

It makes sense, Harry thinks, looking at it from that perspective. He feels relieved somehow, having an explanation to the nagging confusion in the back of his head. It’s still there though because he wants to know why Louis was scratching himself raw. It’s such an abnormal thing to do for someone like Louis, who as far as he’s concerned, is an all-around bouncy and happy person, encompassing in his love for them. Doing that to his own flesh, it’s like Louis hates himself or something and well, Harry can’t accept that but at the same time, he can't be sure.

‘’He’s so hard on himself, like all the time.’’ Harry cannot help but say, cannot help but feel helpless about it.

‘’Harry.’’ Zayn says. Harry looks at him, worry lines stretched across his face. Zayn sees it and frowns.

‘’Louis’ not like us, alright? And I hate pointing out the difference but it’s true. Tough childhood, tough upbringing, who knows what goes through his head sometimes, you know? The way he is with us, it’s like he’s always trying to make up for something, always trying to be better when he’s already perfect in his own way and that's saying a lot maybe but it can be true. We just don't get to see it because he’s so good at hiding it.’’

‘’Wish he’d stop that.’’ Harry hopes he doesn’t sound whiny. ‘’Wish he’d stop hiding things from me.’’

‘’I know. But I’ll tell you something; he’s got us to count on from now on just by being there so no matter what he does that freaks you out, the moment he realizes he cannot take it, whatever it is that he’s going through, you have to remain calm through it, alright?’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Harry exhales. He knows this, it’s the only reason why he’s not in the room, suffocating Louis with a tight embrace right now because the moment Louis does need him, he’ll be there, waiting in the wings, ready and alert. ‘’I know, Z. I love him, I know what I have to do.’’

‘’You still refuse to tell him? ‘’ Zayn then asks, as always; quietly observant.

‘’Can’t.’’ Harry shakes his head. It’s easy talking about his feelings for Louis than the boys had expected simply because it’s easy putting Louis first, above his feelings, above everything else. Liam had called it ‘noble’ but Harry just thinks its love, pure and simple. ‘’Besides, he doesn’t need that. He needs a best mate and that’s what I’m good at. That’s what I want to be for him.’’

‘’You don’t believe that, Harry. You want more. I know you.’’ Zayn points out. Harry sighs.

‘’Okay, I want more but it’s not up to me. It has to be up to both of us. Besides, I’m content where I am for now.’’

‘You sure?’’ Zayn asks, and he has asked this many times before and Harry always gives the same answer.

‘’For him, I’m sure. Promise.’’


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, as promised, an update before tuesday. just wanna say am so happy about the boy's live performance of ''perfect'' in Dublin. that was ace. i bet the youtube videos i watched didn't do it any justice. sucks that i cant be there or that i have zero chance of ever watching them live. anyhow, enough feeling sry for myself. here's chapter 6. this one is a bit crucial to the plotline of the story so, enjoy!

_''Maybe I didn't treat you_  
_Quite as good as I should have_  
_Maybe I didn't love you_  
_Quite as often as I could have_  
_Little things I should have said and done,''_

_Elvis Presley_

 

-After they finish their concert, they have a signing with some fans backstage. They’re all a bit hopped up on adrenaline still so their smiles are a bit too intense and it makes for great meetings. Niall gets way too Irish, Zayn is actually laughing, Liam is being overly lovely and Harry is giving high fives and hugs, even when all they expected were photos and autographs.

At some point, Harry looks over at Louis at the end of the line and thinks wow. With the ends of his hair strands still wet from the water bottle he doused himself with and the fresh white shirt he changed into quickly before coming out of the bathroom, it’s like having an angel around the corner, watching over them. Louis’ smiles are fond and gentle, not like his dimpled ones or Niall’s intense smiles or Zayn’s smirky ones or even Liam’s respectful ones. No, his smiles are bashful, warm, like he still cannot believe it when people tell him they love his voice.

Harry is between Niall and Zayn, third down the line and he doesn’t notice what happens in the next 5 minutes until it’s too late. Honestly, there are just so many people ranging from different ages, from parents, aunts and uncles, even grandparents. He sees a father and a mother amongst them, holding their daughter’s hand while the daughter holds her little brother’s hand in return. She looks fourteen and her brother looks half her age, maybe even younger. He looks properly adorable, with big round glasses and messy blonde hair. There’s music playing in the venue and the boy is dancing to it, enjoying the commotion, trying to grab his sister’s attention but she seems to be only focused on looking at Zayn and snapping shots of him with her phone, letting the boy cling to her leg instead.

Harry sees them coming and he waves at the girl who literally freaks as she steps up in line. Her father and mother stand aside but Harry sees the frown on the man from where he’s standing.

‘’Jerry, why aren’t you holding your sister’s hand? Jane, hold your brother’s hand.’’ The father chastises. He looks impatient as most parents having to accompany their daughters to their concerts do. He doesn’t notice the concerned look on Louis’ face, the way his eyes had drained of life when he heard the man’s voice and how before that, his face was contorted with something uncontrollable and yet quite moving when his eyes landed on the little boy.

Harry waits for his turn as the girl gushes over Niall. He notices that the wife of the man had disappeared somewhere but what he doesn’t notice is that the boy is no longer by the girl’s side. He almost starts looking around when he hears a familiar voice.

‘’C’mere, little man. C’mere.’’

His head whips and before he knows it, he sees little feet padding across from him and straight for his best friend. He smiles, knowing that Louis is about to make many girls cry from the overload of cuteness about to happen.

Louis had always been lovely to children, always cooing when he sees a baby, ready to hold a kid and comfort when he sees little girls crying. It makes for many cute videos of fans that cannot help but film it when they see Louis making faces at babies and making them chortle and laugh.

This time, he sees Louis sitting on his hunches as he beckons the little boy to high-five him. The boy obliges then laughs, liking the attention.

‘’What’s your name?’’ the boy asks, placing his little hands on Louis’ shoulders, already comfortable with him. Louis’ hands go around the boy’s waist, fingers gentle on the his chubby sides, holding the boy steady in front of him, like he’s afraid to let go.

‘’I’m Louis. What’s yours?’’

‘’My name’s Jerry. Like Tom and Jerry.’’ The boy says proudly.

‘’That sounds cool.’’ Louis’ says, his smile is blinding. 

‘’I’m cool?’’ the short kid asks, his eyes as big as saucers behind his thick frames.

‘’Of course you are. Who says you’re not?’’

‘’My sister.’’ the boy pouts.

‘’Nope, I don’t believe that. Say, how old are you, Jerry?’’ Louis asks, genuinely enjoying the company of his new-found friend. Harry can feel the snaps of pictures and without turning; he knows the girls are zooming in on Louis and his interaction with the kid.

‘’I’m almost six.’’ Jerry says, holding up six fingers. It makes Louis laugh.

‘’Wow. See, that’s cool, I bet you’re in school now, aren’t ya?’’ Louis asks, looking genuinely interested.

‘’Yes, I like Maths. Miss Russo says I’m really good and she gave me a star for it. I like Miss Russo, she always says nice things to me and she always gives stars to everybody and she gave me a star at school yesterday.’’ The boy babbled, patting Louis’ shoulders, like he wants to keep his attention solely focused on him. But he needn’t try as Louis’ world seemed to rotate around the kid in that moment, forgetting the fans waiting their turn.

Alas though, Harry has to snap out of it and take a picture with the boy’s sister, darting his eyes away from Louis who’s interacting animatedly with the boy. He misses how Louis asks about the boy’s parents, asking the boy to point them out, asking if he loves them.

‘’Mommy and daddy are great!’’ Harry hears and when he turns, he sees the boy waving at his dad and a thin-lipped smile from Louis as he looks as well. But it’s gone when the boy leans closer to Louis’ face and whispers something in his ear. Louis adjusts and keeps up the act, playing along with the boy and genuinely enjoying it. He laughs at whatever the boy whispers and hugs him to his chest as he whispers something in return. After Harry hugs the girl, she moves unto Zayn and so he’s free to watch Louis interact more with the boy.

‘’You love your father? He’s good to you?’’ Louis asks when the boy straightens up and Harry frowns because it’s the same thing he’d been asked back in the bungalow and he doesn’t know why Louis is asking that out of everything.

‘’Yes, he’s the best. Look here, daddy. Look!’’ the boy’s attention veers off again, standing on tiptoes and using his hold on Louis’ shoulder as leverage. He waves at his father with his whole arm but the man is now busy talking on his phone and is waving half-heartedly back at his son. Harry hears him say something about the car, apparently talking to his wife about parking space.

‘’Oh Jerry there you are, I thought you were with dad.’’ The girl Jane says as she steps up to Louis next.

‘’I’m with Louis. He’s my friend.’’ The boy says, wrapping his small arms around Louis’s neck. Louis looks like he’s about to burst from happiness.

‘’That’s nice.’’ The girl looks surprised but she looks at Louis apologetically. ‘’Sorry about him, Louis. Can I have a picture, please? You can give him to me if you’d like.’’ Harry sees the girl putting her hand on her brother’s shoulder as she tries to make him let go. But Louis doesn’t let go of the boy. Instead, he picks him up and sits the boy on his hip, an arm under the boy’s bum so he can hold him up nicely. Harry can practically hear the girls behind him melt at the sight or maybe that’s just him. Even Niall, Zayn and Liam are looking on, their smiles intense.

‘’Here, love. Let’s have it.’’ Louis says as he wraps his free arm around the girl while she raises her phone to take her selfie with him. She takes a second one making a duck face and Louis makes his classy googly-eyed face. She goes for a third picture but then the boy slaps his tiny hand on Louis’ face and Louis burst out laughing.

‘’I wanna be in the picture, I wanna be in the picture!’’ the boy whines.

‘’Okay, little man. Here, no need to be feisty.’’ Louis chuckles as he takes the phone from the girl and holds it up, taking a selfie with the boy.

‘’Okay, Jerry, we have to go now.’’ The girl says, taking her phone back from Louis. ‘’Bye Louis. Say bye to Louis, Jer.’’ The girl says as she beckons her brother, tracing fingers on his small back.

‘’Bye Louis.’’ Jerry says, hugging Louis tightly around the neck and tucking his face there. Louis’ smile turns watery as he hugs the boy back, hugging him to his chest, with his free arm around his small back, making a sound between a laugh and a cry. It makes Harry frown. He’d been smiling so hard at the whole interaction that he didn’t notice how Louis was close to tears the whole time he’d been carrying the boy.

‘’Bye, little man. Take care of yourself, yeah?’’ Louis says and again, it’s such a strange thing to say to an almost 6-year-old who couldn’t possibly understand what Louis actually means. Louis made it sound like the boy is going to be in danger and hence must take care of himself. It makes Harry worried, wondering where it’s all coming from. He side-steps Zayn and watches Louis closely.

‘’Okay,’’ the boy just says and then, he ducks in and kisses Louis on the cheek before hugging him again. It’s sweet and it’s merely an affectionate peck but Louis’ face crumbles, like he’s about to cry. He tucks his face in between the boy’s shoulder and neck, inhaling him. Harry is now genuinely concerned but Louis turns his back to him as he hugs the boy tighter, like he’s ashamed to show this out of control side of him.

The sister is too busy talking to Zayn, trying to prolong this drawn out opportunity she has with her idol so Harry focuses on the way Louis’ burying his face in the boy’s cheek, his fingers coming up to card through the boy’s hair at the nape of his neck. He then kisses the boy on the apple of his cheek several times and ever so gently like this is some sort of intense goodbye with someone familiar, someone dear. Louis then whispers something to the boy, his voice rough all of a sudden. Harry hears it though, he hears the words, ‘’I love you so much and I’m so sorry. Always remember that, okay? I love you.’’

The boy just giggles, his rosy cheeks crunched up from smiling so hard. His glasses get a bit foggy as he pulls back and messes with Louis’ hair. Louis lets him as he turns back round, swaying them, smiling at the boy sadly, like he doesn’t want to let go but knowing that he has to.

‘’Okay, Jer. Let’s go now, dad’s waiting.’’ Jane says, snapping Louis out of it. His face becomes crestfallen as Jane pulls Jerry out of his arms, too in a hurry to notice the expression on Louis’ face. His arms follow the kid like magnets, like he doesn’t want to let go. Harry grips his shoulders, afraid that Louis might make a scene and embarrass himself. It grounds Louis a bit as his arms fall back, wrapping them instead around himself.

‘’Bye,’’ the kid says as he holds his sister’s hand, waving at Louis from behind his shoulder as they walk towards their father.

‘’Bye, love.’’ Louis says, folding his arms across his chest tighter, looking about to explode, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

Harry has no time to ask what just happened as more fans frolic up to him and he has to concentrate on them. He glances at Louis once in a while and sees that he’s barely pulling it together; his smiles are tight, his laughs are half-hearted, his eyes remains shiny like he’s doing all in his power not to cry.

In a split before a fan reaches them, he puts an arm around Louis and whispers in his ear, ‘’are you alright?’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Louis nods and doesn’t say anything more. Harry knows he’s lying but has no time to make him talk.

Even after the signing is over, Harry has no time to ask as they’re rushed off to the shower room. Louis draws the curtain in his cubicle in silence and is the first out the door when he’s done. Soon, they’re bustled to the bus. Louis gets into an animated discussion with Niall and then before he knows it, they’re back on the high way and Louis is calling it a night.

He feels betrayed at how Louis didn’t glance at him once simply because he knows that Harry would want to talk. It makes for a bummer night and so, he too goes to his bunk to sleep. But he doesn’t sleep; how can he when the burn of unanswered questions roams his head?


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> felt like this chapter ought to come straight after. also - i know i ramble bt pls bear with me- but that whole niall writing ''it all worked out'' for that girl's tattoo just really hit me, considering that his ''applied for the x-factor, hope it all wrks out''- tweet, actually worked out *cryin proud tears* anyway, anyway, enjoy!

_''Oh won't you stay with me, cause you're all I need.''_

_Sam Smith_

 

-Harry doesn’t know when he fell asleep but he knows the reason why he’s awake is because he slept early and now it would be hard to fall back asleep because of it. He sighs as he gets up, thinking of brewing up a cup of tea.

As he walks towards the kitchenette, he doesn’t realize that just nearby, Louis is crying his eyes out, hiding at the foot of the back door of the bus away from the bunks, sitting on the steps, his head banging against the door, rocking back and forth in the tight space. His legs are bent, squeezed to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs and head, stifling his broken sounds to his knees.

When the kettle settles down, that’s when he hears it. Harry, having become more attuned to Louis lately, startles when he hears the sound of thumping. Realizing its not some noise from the outside world, he leaves his empty cup of tea on the counter and pads towards the source. It then dawns on him as his eyes land on Louis’ crumpled figure, that the sound he heard is because of Louis’ head connecting harshly with the door in his frenzied state.

‘’Fucking stop it!’’ Louis grits out, mushing his face tightly into the bone of his knees like he’s trying to succumb to oblivion. He’s shaking his head between his arms, nails squeezing against the nape of his sweaty neck and where it reaches his upper back, pinching his skin like he wants to pull it off. ‘’Stop fucking crying.’’

‘’Lou!’’ Harry tries to squeeze in but the space is tight. He manages to get his legs next to Louis but as soon as their legs touch, Louis chokes so loud, Harry feels he’s about to come apart.

‘’Stop, stop…’’ Louis chants as he squeezes himself away from Harry, looking smaller than ever.

‘’Louis, please.’’ He begs. ‘’Wake up, and it’ll be over. Wake up.’’

Louis just cries brokenly and Harry is out of options. He’s confused, he doesn’t know what’s happening but he cannot stand seeing Louis this hurt. In one swift motion, he pulls Louis towards him and embraces him with encompassing arms, covering him all over. Louis struggles at first but Harry holds tighter. He’s stronger than Louis and he is not going to let him explode.

‘’Shh, shh, I got you. You’re good, Lou. I got you.’’ He comforts, trying to contain Louis’ shaking form, keeping his pieces together.

Louis cries for a while until his rocking tires him out. He just falls against Harry’s chest, putting all his weight into it. Harry has to adjust; he crosses his legs so that Louis can lean in better and he does. Louis’ face is mushed under Harry’s chin, breathing haggardly, barely there, his proximity warming Harry up.

‘’Hazza…’’ it comes out like a question, like he’s making sure Harry is there.

‘’Yeah Lou. It’s me. I’m here. I got you.’’ Harry squeezes him in as proof.

“I…am I okay?” Louis asks, completely unsure.

‘’Yes,’’ Harry answers immediately but then he relents. ‘’I mean, you’re not now but you will be. You’re not all here, but you’re getting there, Lou. Just hold on to me, okay? I’ll get you back.’’

“I… I can’t talk…” his breath stutters, words getting stuck in his throat. “I mean, if you’re gonna ask…I can’t…’’

“It’s okay. Tell me when you’re ready. Just breathe for now, okay? I need you to do that.”

Louis nods minutely and keeps taking deep breaths until it tires him out too and he can’t go on. When Harry looks down, he sees his eyes shut close, remnants of tears crusted on his lashes. God, even like this, he’s beautiful; soft and warm, in need of Harry’s protection from whatever it is that’s hurting him. Harry needs to help him, needs to tend to him. He’s done being babied by Louis, done being the one who always gets cuddled. He wants to cuddle Louis now, wants to be the bigger person and care for him. He wants to be the one Louis seeks comfort from.

He leans back against the backside of the arm of the couch behind him, spread along the wall the end of the bus and presses his chin on Louis’ head. He breathes him in, breathes the smell of his apple shampoo and presses closer, Louis’ hair silky and smooth against his skin. He can feel every vibration from Louis’ body and tries to stop him from shaking like a leaf by squeezing tighter.

“I’m sorry,” Louis finally says, still a little bit breathless.

“It’s okay,” Harry repeats. “Take your time, alright? Just calm down and breathe. It’s all gonna be okay.”

“Go back to sleep then?” he asks roughly.

‘’No,’’ Harry says, his word is final. He is not leaving Louis tonight.

‘’You’ll stay?’’ Louis sounds hopeless. Harry cannot let him down.

‘’Not going anywhere.” He assures him. Even though he’s dying to ask a thousand questions, he remains solid and stays, just like Louis needs.

‘’Sometimes…’’ Louis starts but stops to take a breath. Harry stops breathing altogether. ‘’I just…I can’t see why I deserve any of this; this singing career, meeting you and the boys, especially when I look back and remember that....’’ He takes in a shuddery breathe, backtracking to something scary. ‘’I deserve nothing, for what I’ve done.’’ His eyes well up with the thickening of his voice.

God, what is this? Louis is legitimately wrought with guilt, paralyzed with a deep-rooted sadness that Harry can barely comprehend.

‘’That’s…no.’’ Harry says emotionally. ‘’You deserve this life, you deserve to be here. I love you,’’ he adds. ‘’You deserve to be here with me, with us.’’ He amends, because Louis doesn’t need his baggage on top of his own.

‘’I keep remembering.’’ Louis says, voice all liquid and worn out, stretched thin like taffy. He looks close to tears with his eyes half-lidded. ‘’I keep wanting to go back and change things, fix things.’’

‘’What things? Change what?’’

‘’My life. I wish I could change how it was. Maybe if I’d been quiet. If I didn’t cry all the time…’’ Louis doesn’t finish because he starts crying again, shutting his eyes and trying so hard to stop it. It’s difficult, seeing how incredibly fragile he is, underneath his big brother protectiveness and strong façade so Harry holds him as tight as he can.

‘’Louis,’’ And Harry doesn’t what to say. He doesn’t know what Louis’ been through, hasn’t got a single clue if he’s talking about being homeless at eighteen or living in the orphanage. He doesn’t know anything. Instead he sits with Louis and watches him cry himself to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next update will be before friday. good night xoxo


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is what happens wen the house is quiet and ur up at 3 am with too much inspiration.

_‘’I am hurt. I am hurt. I am hurt. Take me home; take me to his arms.’’_

_Zosraus_

 

-Last year, when the boys were still starting to get into the thick of recording their new album, Louis had announced one day that he needed to get back to London, for urgent, unexplained reasons. They were in L.A. at the time, with a schedule to follow and Louis’ abrupt decision wasn’t met kindly. The boys had waited outside as Louis remained in the meeting room, voice getting louder and louder until Harry was about to barge in and force the men in suits to give him what he wanted. In the end though, Louis got what he wanted. After all, he had said he just needed one night in London and he’ll be back as soon as he’s done.

The boys had asked no questions as Louis was in a hurry to leave and there was no time to explain. Back in the x-factor house, Harry remembers Louis leaving in the middle of the night, leaving a message that he had something important to do and would be back in time for rehearsals. It wasn’t a big deal considering they were in the same country, and then, just like the second time around, Louis had come back a little bit morose but the next day, he was as cheerful as a clown.

This time, it’s just the same and yet, they’re too busy to notice a pattern, too busy to notice the time of year. Harry is agitated though as he watches Louis talking with Paul. They’re in the lobby of some classy hotel, waiting for their security guards to hand over their room keys. Louis and Paul have been arguing all day and still are and it’s getting on Harry’s nerves because he doesn’t know what it’s about.

‘’This has been going on all day,’’ Liam points out.

‘’Yeah, what’s he on about?’’ Niall asks. Louis had been heavily wired ever since that night a week ago when Harry had found him crying on the bus steps. Once again, he’d shrugged off Harry’s inquisitive questions, saying it’s just stress, nothing but stress, making Harry feel like he’s crawling up a wall. But today, he’d been extra agitated and anxious, talking to Paul incessantly and whatever he’s asking for, Paul keeps refusing, making Louis look on the verge of tears by the time they stepped out to the stage.

‘’Wish I knew.’’ Harry says, ashamed for admitting that he is just as out of the loop as they are.

Finally, they get their keys and head towards the lifts. Louis’ sporting a deep frown on his face, body tilted towards Paul, like he’s about to beg him. Paul actually looks guilty, avoiding Louis’ eyes at all cost. Harry puts an arm on Louis’ shoulder, but Louis flinches and shrugs him off, like he is not in the mood for him. Harry tries not to be hurt by it but it’s hard. The boy he loves is ignoring him and refusing his comfort so how can he not be hurt?

When they hit their assigned floor, Harry is the first to step out. The other three follow him, having noticed Louis’ little gesture and instantly wanting to comfort Harry. Just as the curly-haired lad was about to reach his and Louis’ shared room, that’s when he hears a choked sob.

‘’Look, I’ve had it! You can’t fucking do this to me!’’ Louis shouts, his voice sounding like a bruise from a long night of singing.

They all turn around and it’s no one but Paul and Louis in front of the closed lifts having a one-sided face off. Louis had dropped his bag on the floor and Harry is quite positive that Paul is trying to make himself small in front of Louis with how his eyes are swimming with genuine guilt. But then his eyes turn stern.

‘’Look, there is nothing I can do about it; you have to play to a huge crowd tomorrow. You won’t have enough time to go and come back in time. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is.’’

Go and come back? Harry and the boys exchange worried, confused glances before they walk up the hallway and stand behind Louis.

‘’That is bullshit!’’ Louis shouts, furious. ‘’This is an emergency and…’’

‘’You keep saying that and yet whenever I ask you about it, you come up short so whatever it is, if you want me to help you, I suggest you start talking.’’ Paul interrupts with a calmer fury.

‘’I don’t have to tell you shit.’’ Louis bristles and Harry knows it must be serious now because Louis is never rude to the crew. He can be rude to the paps that spread lies about them but he’s never rude to the 1D team, never. ‘’I have to go back to London means I have to go back to London. Stop fucking trying to keep me here.’’

‘’London?’’ Harry asks, sidestepping Liam to stand next to Louis and shit. As much as he looks furious, he also looks like he’s on the verge of tears. ‘’Lou, what’s this about?’’

‘’Look, just go to your room.’’ Paul says, wiping a hand over his face. ‘’There’s nothing I can do, I told you. I’m sorry but…’’

‘’Goddamn it, don’t say that.’’ Louis interrupts, tears threatening to fall.

‘’Louis…’’

‘’I need to get back to London. Please, I’m begging you, Paul.’’ Louis chokes out abruptly. ‘’Please, I have to go…’’ he goes up to Paul’s space, his hands on his broad shoulders. Louis’ short so his height is only up to Paul’s chest and with the way Paul is looking at him, slacked hands on his hips; he looks like he feels awful for denying Louis.

What Harry doesn’t understand is that as much as Louis is up in Paul’s space, there tremor in his hands say something more. He knows that Louis is afraid that Paul would keep on rejecting him but there’s a different kind of fear in Louis’ eyes, like he’s afraid that Paul might snap at him or something.

‘’Kid, don’t be like this…’’ Paul says, trying to be nothing but kind and understanding.

‘’Why can’t he go?’’ Zayn asks incredulously.

‘’Yeah, Paul let him. It’s just one show.’’ Liam contributes.

‘’I cannot do that.’’ Paul insists and Louis just breaks down. He pushes Paul viciously and though Paul is like a wall, he tumbles back a couple of steps because Louis’ move was unexpected. Louis then picks up his bag swiftly and breezes past Harry. But he doesn’t go too far. His eyes were already too clogged up with unshed tears so it’s no wonder he tumbles over his own two feet; he could barely see in front of him.

He falls down on his knees and then he doesn’t get up. He just sits there dejectedly, defeated, his chest heaving. The breathy sounds he’s making means he’s swallowing his tears, willing them not to fall. Louis hates crying in front of others, never does it if he can help it.

‘’Fuck!’’ they all startle as Louis drops his fist on the ground hard before his hand flattens. His shoulders start to shake and just, no.

‘’God, Lou.’’ Harry runs to him and reaches him first. He pulls Louis to him and the boy just goes, helpless as he falls on his chest. Louis is keeping his sobs in, his tears falling in silence and no one would guess he’s crying if not for his shaking shoulders and trembling lips. His fringe is covering his eyes, keeping them hooded but when Harry holds his head to his chest, palm stretched across Louis’ cheek, he feels the wetness there.

‘’This is your fault!’’ Zayn shouts at Paul, who is immobile at the sight. ‘’You cannot keep him here like this.’’

‘’Look, maybe tomorrow, okay?’’ Paul allows, and he’s so tired, like he needs a whole week to sleep. ‘’You can go after the show tomorrow, Louis. But not…’’

‘’No!’’ Louis sobs, wrenching himself out of Harry’s arms and getting up, stomping a foot on the floor like a petulant child. He’d cleared his tears on Harry’s shirt but his face is blotchy, eyes visceral with pain.

‘’I have to go tonight, it’s just one night. I have to go…’’

‘’Why can’t this wait?’’ Paul asks and his composed face breaks as his impatience sets in, his tone bordering on angry. ‘’What is so important that you can’t…’’

‘’Do you want me to beg you?’’ Louis interrupts and there is something haunting in his eyes, something dreadful stemming from the choice of his words. There’s fear coloring his blue orbits, and Harry feels it was set there by Paul’s tone. Is Louis afraid of him? ‘’Do you want me to get down on my knees right now and crawl to you? Because I would, I swear…’’

‘’Okay, okay!’’ Harry says quickly as he catches Louis’ bicep, preventing him from moving away from him. Harry is terrified by Louis’ choice of words because not only were they so unnecessary, but Louis’ voice sounded so detached, like saying what he said and acting on it would have been the right thing to do. Paul looks astounded too and Harry loves the man and all but he brought this on himself and Harry blames him unabashedly. If Louis wants to go to London, he’ll fucking go to London.

He turns the boy towards him, holding him by his biceps. ‘’Louis, I’ll make it happen. I’ll get you to the airport myself…’’

‘’Harry…’’

‘’No!’’ Harry says, angry at Paul, angry that he’s the one who reduced his best friend to this pleading, cowering mess. He hugs Louis to him, covering him up almost and speaks above his head protectively. He’s going to stand between Louis and raging oceans if he has to. ‘’You have no right, you have zero right to do this. I am taking him to the airport and that is final.’’

Harry ignores the echo from the harshness of his words and gets back to tending to Louis. He pulls him in further, rubbing his back up and down as Louis hides in his embrace, trembling a little. Harry’s doubts are being confirmed, that Louis might actually be scared but he doesn’t know from what because no way he’s scared of Paul. The man is bulky for sure, can take on all of them but he’s a softy at heart. Harry won’t allow him to make a move even if he wanted to anyways and it scares him to think of that. He’s worried what this whole thing could possibly mean but if Louis going back to London will help then he’ll make sure he gets him there on the first flight out.

‘’Okay, I’ll go inform management about the change in plans.’’ Paul says calmly after what seems like an era of charged silence, broken only by their breathing. Paul looks tired beyond his years, and most importantly, he looks contrite, like he’d deserved the attitude he just got so he doesn’t bother fighting it. ‘’The rest of you are still going to perform tomorrow night though.’’

‘’Never said we wouldn’t.’’ Zayn mutters but his eyes cloud with guilt. Paul may work for them but he is their friend, their father figure on the road and they’ve never ever been mean to him until tonight.

‘’Alright, I’ll be waiting in the lobby.’’ Paul says towards Harry then he steps up to the lift. No one says anything until he leaves.

Louis is liquid in Harry’s strong arms, weak from lack of sleep and restlessness as he stands crumpled between Harry’s arms, shaking like a leaf. He’s got his arms wrapped around himself, like he’s trying not to shake apart. Harry doesn’t say anything as he pecks the crown of Louis’ head, picks up Louis’ bag, guides the strap up his shoulder then smoothly, pulls Louis in with a strong arm around his waist. He gives one last look towards the boys before walking towards the lifts as well. Louis stays tucked to his chest, his erratic breathing calming down. He doesn’t look back as the doors open and they step inside. Harry presses the button designated for the lobby and remains quiet by Louis’ side.

‘’Thank you.’’ Louis says as he pulls back, pulling at the sleeves of his shirt to wipe the sweat on his forehead.

‘’Anything for you, Lou.’’ Harry says, tightening his grip on his waist, telling him without words that he’s got his back. Louis looks at him with an unreadable expression but they say nothing else as they step outside.

Paul meets them and brings them to the car park where a black Ford awaits them. The ride to the airport is quiet but Louis pulls Harry’s hand to his lap and clutches at it the whole ride. Harry just holds back tighter.

When they reach the airport parking lot, Paul turns in his seat.

‘’Harry, best you remain in the car. No need to cause a frenzy.’’ He says before stepping outside. Harry has so much to say but Louis apparently doesn’t. He kisses Harry quickly on the cheek and temple before snatching his bag from Harry’s lap and getting out of the car.

Harry feels empty without him.

That night, he receives a text from Louis, saying;

_‘’I don’t deserve you. Thank you for what you’ve done.’’_

That night, it’s Harry who cries himself to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter is sort of the fluff part. thank u for all the comments so far. honestly, the reason why these updates are coming faster than i expected is because of all your lovely selves, sharing your thoughts on this so once again, thank you so much. all the love xx

_''Oh, I would carry you over fire and water for your love_  
_And I will hold you closer, hope your heart is strong enough_

 _When the night is coming down on you_  
_We will find a way through the dark.''_

_One Direction, Through the Dark_

 

 

They play their concert, with Liam citing apologies to the fans about Louis’ absence. It had been so abrupt that no articles were quick enough to track where exactly Louis had gone or what exactly the emergency was. Louis keeps to his word though; he only stays one night and is back the next day just as promised, leaving the press no time to speculate about his sudden departure.

Harry had expected a morose Louis but he didn’t expect Louis to pop into their shared hotel room upon his return with the boys behind him, announcing a movie marathon night and carrying little knick-knacks from home for each and every one of them. They all asked about his trip and all tried to pry answers out of him, but Louis is very good at being vague; saying the problem’s been solved, that it’s all over, nothing to fret over.

In fact, throughout their Harry Potter marathon, he doesn’t even mention it when he’d quietly thanked Harry again while Liam loaded up the second DVD into Niall’s laptop. Harry didn’t question it, too tired of taking chances only to be shut down so he cuddles up to Louis- he cannot deny that he missed the lad- and enjoys the films.

However, the next day, Louis’ mood is damp, not trying as hard to pretend he’s alright as he was the day before. Harry links it up to jetlag and is too tired to speculate otherwise. During their photo shoots, Louis went unusually blank more than a couple of times that their entire chemistry is obviously awkward. The team working with them senses this too so they decide to start with some solo shots then do interviews to get them in the mood before ending it with the group photos. With Liam taking the lead, answering almost on behalf of all of them, it works in lifting up the awkwardness but Louis is still quiet. They’re so worried about him that when he pipes up an answer, all eyes go to him, wondering at every increment of change he shows.

Harry sticks by him like glue, prodding and asking again like he hadn’t learned his lesson, begging to be told what’s on his mind without using words but using his mere presence, trying to exude as much safety and comfort as possible. But Louis is his usual kind-self; accommodating but non-revealing, helpful but reserved. He can see the guilt swimming in Louis’ eyes whenever he refuses to give Harry proper answers and the boys notice, especially Zayn.

When Louis gets quiet, he gets most comfortable around the Bradford lad and at some point in the day, Harry’s had enough of Louis’ silence that he just leaves Zayn to it, seething that he’s not the one Louis is seeking comfort from, angry at himself for losing patience, for not being good enough.

That night, after their appearance on a couple of talk shows, Louis and Zayn are out the balcony, and Harry is not even hiding it, staring at their backs from his seat on the couch, ignoring whatever football match Liam and Niall are watching. It’s their last night at the hotel and the next day they’re on the road again towards Tampa, Florida or San Diego, Harry is not really sure, just positive that it’s another sunny place.

‘’Louis’ been quiet today.’’ Liam points out, trying to be nonchalant about it.

‘’You think?’’ Harry cannot help the sarcasm in his voice.

They leave him then, sensing he’s not in the mood. Harry is slightly guilty; he hates being rude but that goes away when Zayn stands up straight and turns around, looking straight at Harry. Harry doesn’t look away and he can tell he’s being obvious with what he wants. Zayn walks in then, towards him then nods towards the balcony, signaling Harry to get up. Harry doesn’t need to be told twice.

Zayn takes his seat as Harry heads for the balcony. Louis has taken a seat on the floor, looking down between the bars of the railing, legs hugged to chest. He’s so beautiful, Harry cannot help but think; tiny but big in character, quiet in his love but with the biggest heart, bright blue eyes that hide so much but love so hard. He’s always giving, never taking, always allowing space for others, never his own. Its why they clicked back in the x-factor, why they’re the closest to each other than anyone else in the band; it’s dangerous but theirs is a sort of ‘need’ type of friendship; Harry needs him because Louis keeps him sane and Louis needs to keep him sane. Its only now, Harry realizes; that Louis needs him to keep his sanity too.

‘’You asked for me?’’ Harry says as he takes a seat next to him on the floor. He easily puts his head on Louis’ shoulder and senses his tension –not from Harry’s touch but from his thoughts. When Harry looks at his eyes, they’re almost brimming with it, mind obviously whirling with the capacity of them.

‘’Zayn noticed how worried you’ve been all day. Said I should talk to you.’’ Louis says, his eyes on the view, steady as his shoulders relax. Harry still wonders how he can do that, how he can make Louis ease up but then Louis does it for him too so maybe he’s just channeling it back, whatever it is. Niall had always pointed out how Harry is sometimes a mirror-image of Louis, in a way that when Louis is happy, so is he, and when Louis is down, he’s down too. When Louis comforts Harry, he learns how to comfort back. He has to say, he loves the chirality of it.

‘’Zayn said?’’ Harry points out.

‘’I noticed too, love.’’ Louis says knowingly, aware of what Harry needs to hear and now it’s his innermost thoughts. Harry hopes he’ll not brush him off or alter his attention. Louis is very good at doing that but right now, he doesn’t want a distraction. ‘’But he did say that, says whatever I have to say, should be said to you not him.’’

‘’He didn’t need to.’’ He doesn’t like that Zayn blew Louis off like that.

‘’I know, I just…I want to tell you so much but I just don’t think you’ll be able to handle it. You were too young back in the x-factor, still too young now. You don’t need…’’

‘’I just need you.’’ Harry interrupts, pulling one of Louis’ hands away and wrapping it around both of his own. He wants to tell Louis that he needs so many things from his best friend that is aside from his all-round awesomeness. He needs his trust, needs his sanity, needs him to let Harry take care of things, to let go sometimes and let other people carry the weight of the world off his shoulders. He knows it’s strange to keep saying the word ‘need’ but he’s like a junkie in need of a fix when it comes to Louis. He needs him to be okay, he needs him to stop hurting. It just feels like the world is unbalanced when he is unhappy.

Some would describe Louis as odd or strange in regard to his behavior and Harry is no expert on reading body language. However, he is not dumb; he knows Louis has his demons, has seen him fighting them, struggling against his innermost thoughts, trying to silence them out. If only he knew how to fight them for him, just to never see Louis so helpless.

‘’I need you to be whatever you want to be but mostly okay and most importantly happy and I need you to talk to me so I can make that happen.’’ He says, trying not to sound like he’s begging.

‘’It’s not that simple.’’ Louis says, only slightly exasperated.

‘’Why?’’

‘’Because you won’t like what I have to say.’’

‘’Like what?’’

‘’Like the fact that as much as I love making music, I am also in fact,’’ he pauses, hesitant to share his thoughts, but then his shoulders sag and his voice weakens. ‘’Most of the time, quite unhappy,’’

Harry swallows. This isn’t the Louis he knows, the one who is always wearing a smile as bright as day, his source of comfort, his fountain of happiness. This isn’t his Louis.

‘’Why are you unhappy?’’ he says ineloquently.

‘’Because I cannot re-write the past, Hazza and you can’t change that for me, either.’’ He sounds so melancholy tonight.

‘’Then I’ll change what I can.’’ Harry soldiers on. ‘’Whatever’s been upsetting you these past few days, whatever’s made you need to leave so badly, whatever’s upsetting you right now, making you unhappy, tell me and I’ll change it. You always make me feel better by talking to you. Do the same for me, yeah?’’

It’s only fair, he thinks. He owes Louis so much that it doesn’t matter what type of burden Louis unloads unto his shoulders. Who knows? Maybe they have the same problems. Maybe Louis has love problems, maybe he cannot handle the fame like Harry, maybe he is also just as good at hiding it like the rest of them. Whatever it is though, he’ll carry it. He’ll do anything.

Louis sighs. He lets go of Harry’s hand and Harry sits up straight, confused. He watches as Louis reaches back and pulls out his wallet from his back pocket. He fiddles with it on his lap between two shaking hands, hesitant. Then he looks Harry in the eye but says nothing.

‘’You can trust me.’’ Harry says, sensing his trepidation. They seem to be the right words to say because Louis’ lips curves into a small smile, a fond one. Liam says it’s his ‘Harry smile’ and Harry loves it, loves how it’s just for him.

‘’I know.’’ He looks away, eyes landing on his wallet. ‘’It’s me I don’t trust.’’

Harry doesn’t know what to make of that but he knows that Louis is being really courageous; trying to open himself up and bear his soul to him. He has to be careful with Louis; he’s too precious to let him hurt himself.

‘’I can trust you enough for the both of us.’’ He says but Louis doesn’t say anything. He looks up at the sky and Harry sees his courage dwindling with every passing second.

‘’Lou, you don’t have to tell me anything tonight, or any other night.’’ Harry back-pedals. ‘’The fact that you’re trying is good enough. I know you love me. I know you’re just looking out for me. But whatever it is, no matter how bad, I can take it, any time. I can tell you’ve been hiding it, whatever it is, for so long now and maybe that’s why it’s difficult for you to let it out now but guess what?’’ Louis looks at him, stormy azure eyes swimming, throat swallowing. Harry hopes it means he’s getting through to him.

‘’You can tell me anything, the good, the bad, the ugly and I’ll still think you’re amazing. I’ll still think the world of you and that’s why I don’t want you to hide stuff from me, because nothing you say will tear me away from you, ever. I’m not going anywhere, Lou. I’m permanent, as permanent as I’ll ever be in your life, as long as you’ll have me, that is. Besides, I promised you, didn’t I? Same way you promised you’ll always be there for me, that same goes for you too.’’

Louis looks like he’s melting, steel resolve boiling down to rust and debris. He frees his arm and folds it around Harry’s shoulders. He pulls him in, kisses him on the forehead, one, two three times, grateful somehow.

‘’I’ll always be there for you, sweetheart,’’ he says as he pulls back, keeping his arm around Harry. ‘’Have to protect the people I love, don’t I? You can count on that.’’

Shit, he has to say it. Louis just called him sweetheart and sometimes he calls him darling too and a lot of other pet names and just...Harry cannot take it anymore.

‘’God, I love you.’’ Harry says reverently.

‘’I love you too, Haz.’’

Harry shakes his head. This is it. He can feel the words on his tongue, aching to be set free. He has to tell this boy, has to let him know that he is Harry’s darling too.

‘’No, I love you differently from the way you love me. The way I want more, always want more with you. Haven’t you noticed?’’ He adds when he notices Louis’ confusion. ‘You say things like that, Lou; you call me ‘sweetheart’ and talk about protecting me all the time like it’s your sole duty so just, how? How can I not be in love with you?’’

Louis feels whiplashed. He searches Harry’s eyes for the truth, hoping and yearning that he is not playing a cruel joke on him. But Harry is looking at him the way he’s always been; kind and sweet and innocent, like Louis had hung the stars and the moon and if that has been love this whole time…

‘’You’re in love with me?’’ he has to ask, he has to know or else he’s going to melt through the balcony floor and drop 20 floors from the fire in his chest.

‘’Do you know how much?’’ Harry asks through a sweet smile. Louis feels all over the place, burning here and there, not sure what to think.

‘’I stuffed Yorkshire tea bags in my jeans pocket before we left London, afraid you didn’t pack enough even though I personally packed 20 boxes of it in my suitcase.’’ Harry chuckles, feeling a bit embarrassed. ‘’I’ve never met a person so obsessed with tea than you and yet I find it quite fascinating, like, I love the way you can’t go through a day without it, just as much as you can’t go a day without making sure ‘your boys’ are alright.’’ He pauses, gauging Louis’ reaction but the boy seems shocked, looking at Harry like he’s seeing him for the first time. He continues, needing to get it all out but there’s so much he wants to tell this beautiful, insecure lad so he continues with what he can grasp at. ‘’You know, we always say in interviews that if ever we get caught in the fame, we help each other keep ourselves grounded, right? But the thing is, it’s just so like you to care about the simplest of things, Lou, to care about putting us first more than yourself and it’s humbling. It’s you that keeps us grounded, Lou, just by being who you are.’’

‘’No,’’ Louis shakes his head. ‘’No, I’m nothing special, love…’’

‘’You are,’’ Harry interrupts. ‘’You’re so special. You’re so good to me, in a way that’s almost exclusive, to the point where I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve it.’’

‘’Everything,’’ Louis says fiercely. ‘’You deserve everything good in this life and I will always make sure of that.’’

‘’I try to do that for you too. You’re so nice and kind to me all the time, I have to balance things off. It’s why I like doing nice things for you, like, I don’t know,’’ Harry’s voice shakes, feeling a bit self-conscious from revealing too much. ‘’Like doing your laundry even when you’ve told me a hundred times not to and why I replaced all your worn out toms with new ones stupidly thinking you wouldn’t notice.’’

‘’Of course I noticed.’’ Louis mutters, blushing like a fucking rose. ‘’You didn’t hide my old ones so well.’’

‘’Couldn’t bear to throw them away,’’ Harry chuckles wetly. God, he is such a sap; he has all of Louis’ old toms under his bed, keeping them like an heirloom. He still has their Jack Wills hoodies for God’s sake. ‘’I want to do things like that for you all the time, the way you do nice things for me too. I notice everything about you and half the time, you’re always on my mind anyways that I don’t have to try and when we step out there in front of everyone to sing, I don’t fear judgment because you keep me out of my head long enough to remember how much you believe in me. You’re like my anchor, Lou.’’ Harry blushes, knows he sounds so cheesy right now. ‘’And I feel so lucky that I have you now and I have this life with you and we have a home together and if all that is not enough to fall in love with you, I don’t know what is.’’

‘’You keep saying that.’’ Louis says thickly after a short silence. He has to swallow the lump in his throat. ‘’I don’t really know if I’m really hearing all this because this can’t be real. You’re not really saying what…’’

Louis doesn’t get to finish and Harry doesn’t say anything to him; he just surges forward and kisses Louis on the lips, for the first time ever. Louis takes a deep breathe, surprised. After the initial shock of what he’s doing fades, Harry presses closer, breathing Louis’ lips against his, reaching out a hand to cradle Louis’ face and God almighty, Louis is responding. Louis is kissing back and this is just the best first kiss he’s ever had from Louis.

‘’This is the best first kiss,’’ he whispers after taking a breath, the words brushed straight into Louis’ mouth as he presses for a second kiss, holding Louis’ face closer. ‘’The best I’ve ever had.’’ He steals a third, his other hand winding around Louis’ frame, fingers clasping his hipbone. ‘’The best ever…I…’’

‘’You’re such a sap.’’ Louis says fondly against his lips and just, Harry can’t take it. He’s so close now, closer than he’s ever been so he deepens the kiss, wants the feel of Louis’ lips to swallow him whole.

 Louis doesn’t know how he’s enjoying this, how he is trembling deep in his core but not pulling away, holding on steady, holding Harry’s wrist close to his face with his free hand, keeping it there. He’s enjoying this, and he doesn’t know how but being kissed by Harry…is just lovely.

They kiss for a solid minute until Louis pulls back, flushed, warm and he looks like he’s panicking but at the same time he looks so trusting and fuck, he is so precious.

‘’You’re so precious.’’ Harry exhales. There are no filters on his thoughts, not tonight. ‘’You’re so precious to me. I want to call you sweetheart. I love you.’’

‘’You love me.’’

‘’I’m in love with you.’’ It’s the first time he says it with such unabashed confidence, no tremor in his voice and he loves how it makes Louis blush a deeper shade of red that he has to duck his head and hide his face in Harry’s shoulder.

It’s later that night, after Harry cuddles him in silence for an hour, sensing that Louis needs to be lost in his thoughts for a while that he realizes something important. He’d followed Louis to their room to sleep afterwards, and he feels so content until he realized that Louis hasn’t said he loved him back nor why he had taken out his wallet in the first place.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i come back from work and find out that the first budapest show was cancelled,as in the first ever 1D show in 5 yrs was cancelled because liam's been taken ill, as in liam payne known as the backbone of 1D during concerts, who would never ever take sickness into account if he cld help it. for cryin out loud, they didnt cancel wen u know who left the band and they were half away across the country away from home. i just want the fans to understand, God knows i cannot even begin to describe how some of them who wer in that arena felt. but please bear in mind the facts i mentioned above. these boys will go and have gone far and beyond for our sake. if liam is unable to perform, the reason must be drastic. they are not ones to be unprofessional. there you go, i said my peace. anyways, buckle in for a bumpy ride ahead. enjoy!

_‘’In Greek, ‘’nostalgia’’ literally means ‘’the pain from an old wound’’. It’s a twinge in your heart, far more powerful than memory alone. This device isn’t a spaceship, it’s a time machine. It goes backwards and forwards, it takes us to a place where we ache to go again.’’_

_-Don Draper_

 

-‘’How long have you been in love with me?’’ Louis asks. It's morning and they don’t have anything to do until sound check, no interviews, no signings, nothing. He and Louis are in bed, sitting up and quietly talking. It’s the first time they’ve woken up together in a hotel room in close to two weeks from being straight on the road and they want to enjoy it before they check out later that afternoon. Louis had woken up first and already had his shower, his tea and eggs on toast, ordered from room service. He got Harry bacon and eggs with a glass of orange juice and Harry finishes it quickly because Louis is watching him fondly and he wants to do the same. As soon as he’s done, Louis asks his question, like he’d been waiting all morning for the right moment.

Harry contemplates and while he does, he pulls Louis closer, arm around his back so that Louis can rest his head on the juncture between his shoulder and neck. It’s nice waking up to him like this; docile, soft, already feeling so securely his. Louis looks noticeably more relaxed than he’s been the past few days and serene, albeit a bit insecure. He never shows it in public, not even in front of the boys but letting his walls down a bit in front of Harry, feels like a special privilege.

‘’I can’t really pinpoint a time.’’ Harry says honestly. ‘’I just knew I had to tell you. I couldn’t go on like that, not when you were trying so hard to trust me. It was easier than I thought.’’ Harry says quietly. The last part is not entirely truthful. After all, if it was that easy, he would’ve said it much sooner than that. But Louis had been going through a storm lately, agonizing over a haunted past and he just had to tell him how completely loved he is, how Harry wants to keep him centered and not swept away. Sometimes, he feels Louis might float up to space by his thoughts if Harry doesn’t hold on tight. He wishes he could’ve told him about how he’s felt this whole time before he’d gone to London so that at least he would have gone in a daze from being loved by Harry.

Now though, Harry has said it; he’s finally let it out and he doesn’t have to think every second of every day, whether he’s dreaming or day dreaming or even when he’s asleep about how Louis is right next to him, hurting from his turbulent past with no idea how much Harry loves him, how much he is adored.

‘’I honestly don’t deserve you.’’ Louis says, his voice thick.

‘’I’m the one who doesn’t.’’ Harry says in return. ‘’I know you don’t need this type of...baggage and we are yet to resolve your issues.'' he winces at the choice of words. ''But I’m selfish and I’m sorry…’’

‘’No, hey, stop it.’’ Louis interrupts him. ‘’You deserve to go after anything you want, no matter what, alright? Don’t you ever apologize for that.’’

God, he is lovely, offering himself like that even if only to satisfy Harry’s selfishness. But Harry won’t let go, even if Louis hasn’t said anything yet to prove he feels the same way. Sitting up in bed with him, indulging him, Harry cannot help but dwell on how bright and full of love and happiness and sunshine he feels because Louis chose to stay, chose not to turn him away.

‘’Well,'' he swallows. ''Do you feel the same way? About me, that is.’’ he has to ask. He doesn’t need to hear it yet, but he is a bit curious.

‘’Well, you’re a little bit ahead.’’ Louis hedges. ‘’But I know I care about you and I know that you love me. You make me feel alive, you know? Like I have something to protect…’’ he pauses but it's minute. Not that Harry hasn’t caught it or would point it out to him. ’’Something to hold unto.’’ He finishes.

His voice is so smooth, carrying a sort of warmth beneath his words that’s inherently gentle. Harry’s always loved that certain quality about him.

‘’Do you think you’ll be able to catch up to me? In time?’’ Harry knows he’s not being subtle but he’s got Louis talking so he has to take the chance.

‘’Well,’’ Louis contemplates. Even just the tilt of his head as he thinks is so fucking beautiful. The shadow of the warm American sun is casting its morning light over the side of his face, dipping in to highlight his bronze hair, coloring up every single strand and painting his cheekbones tanner, making them more prominent. Subtle shadows are reflecting the slope of his nose and the curve of his ebony eyelashes, making him look like a pixie.

And when he moves his face incrementally to look up at Harry, soft light sinks into his vast ocean azure eyes, lighting up gold spots in them and just, Harry is in love, if he wants nothing more than to burn in the golden-blue flames of his eyes.

‘’I’ve never been in love before.’’ Louis admits. ‘’Wouldn’t know how to do you justice.’’

Shit, that’s what he’s worried about? Doing Harry justice? God, he feels like he’s about to turn to ash from soaking up Louis' sunshine.

At the same time, he feels a massive expansion in his heart from the weight of Louis’ honesty and he doesn’t ever want to leave their tiny bubble. No, he wants to keep feeding on Louis’ sunny presence like a spring flower, like he’d stop blooming and wilt without him.

‘’Afraid I wouldn’t like what I see?’’ Harry teases, looking at Louis with as much adoration as he can muster. Louis chuckles before he turns serious.

‘’Maybe.’’ Louis says, completely straight-faced, as he sits back, face lit up, almost like a halo, tipping the ends of his hair in gold. An angel in the corner of his bed, Harry thinks.

Harry shakes his head and simply cradles him closer, left arm swooping around his shoulder and over his chest, right arm bent and resting on Louis’ right shoulder against his own chest. His lips ghost along Louis’ prominent cheekbone and unintentionally, he takes a whiff. Louis smells so, so good.

‘’Trust me, I like everything I see.’’ Harry says just as seriously. ‘’I like everything about you.’’

‘’But you don’t know everything. I haven’t told you much.’’

‘’That’s okay. I can wait.’’

‘’But it won’t change anything. I don’t know if I can ever properly love you.’’

‘’What do you mean?’’

‘’I mean, I’m not always lost in my head. Like I can be here, the same way I am with you now but that isn’t all the time. I know you notice and I just…the thought of disappointing you is unbearable, Hazza. The thought of not being able to love you back, I know it will hurt you and I don’t want that, okay? I’m sorry if what I’m saying is already hurting you but if I’m being honest here, I’ve always noticed you, H. What you’re saying, about you being in love with me, I guess I should’ve seen this coming,'' his voice trembles, in the way Harry knows he's saying less than what he actually means. ''And it’s terrifying how little you’re going to get in return because I’m not…’’

‘’No.’’ Harry interrupts and frowns. ‘’To be honest, I feel guilty about that, about pushing you. I feel like I’m always looking at you and yet I can’t believe I haven’t noticed you hurting. I should’ve put that first above my feelings and...’’

‘’That’s not your fault.’’

‘’Yeah, well, you hide your feelings quite well. Except lately, you’ve been a bit volatile.’’ Harry points out.

‘’I guess I’ve become sort of unhinged, yeah?’’ Louis admits sadly.

‘’Wish I could see right through you, though.’’ Harry answers honestly. ‘’I don’t want you to be elusive with me but I don’t want you to explode either. Like, we can talk about this, you know?’’

‘’I do want to talk about it,’’ Louis admits, his voice soft. ‘’I just don’t know how. I don’t think I can, I don’t have the words...Maybe that’s why I can’t sleep, you know? Maybe, I don’t know.’’

‘’Well, have you always had nightmares during the X-factor or during last year? Like, can you explain that?’’ Harry asks, somehow welcoming the diversion.

‘’Tension was pretty high back then. We wanted to win so badly and Liam made sure we were focused for that so,’’

His answer doesn’t make sense, so Harry tries to zoom in on what he can grasp.

‘’So, you’re saying it’s still the stress talking, because of...tension?’

‘’Yes,’’ Louis’ answer is immediate. Whatever warmth Harry had been feeling suddenly vanishes at the thought of Louis going back to his hiding place now that Harry is being bold in his questions. Harry is undeterred though.

‘’Well, let’s talk about that then. Like your nightmares and sleepless nights, what’s that about?’’

‘’Well, I’ve always had trouble sleeping, even before the x-factor so it’s not really a big deal.’’ Louis admits. ‘’The greater the stress, the more restless I get, simple as that.’’

‘’Okay,’’ Harry says but he’s not satisfied.

‘’You know, I auditioned for the show in the first place because I was looking for an escape and well, I got it.’’ Louis pauses. ‘’But even I knew it wouldn’t last long.’’

‘’You escaping your thoughts?’’ Harry says, trying to understand.

‘’Just escaping. Music is a good outlet but it’s not enough.’’

‘’Well, I think I’m a better outlet. Tell me, Lou.’’ He asks gently. ‘’Tell me what I missed out on.’’

‘’You didn’t miss out on anything worth it, love.’’ Louis hedges. ‘’I want you to enjoy life right now, so pay attention to that.’’

‘’I can do both. I can pay attention to life and you, if you’ll have me?’’ Harry ends hesitantly. He doesn’t want to say, _you are my life_ because that is just too sappy.

Louis sighs. He’s saying a lot today, he thinks. He still cannot admit easily though.

‘’I’ll always have you, H.’’ Louis says quietly. ‘’Just being with you is…’’

‘’Easier than telling me what’s bothering you?’’ Harry points out.

Louis’ eyes dim and Harry hates himself for dampening the mood even further.

‘’It’s more than just a bothersome thing, Hazzie. It’s…so much more…there are some things I blocked out, I can hardly remember them and when I do, the thought of saying it out-loud scares the shit out of me.’’

It’s an admission in itself, Harry thinks, the fact that he’s scared and he’s admitting it.

‘’But isn’t the risk worth it?’’ Harry asks.

‘’What risk?’’

‘’Like, you keep your thoughts, your past or whatever, bottled up so deeply and they just eat at you, Lou. I see you when you can’t sleep, when your nightmares take over.’’ Louis frowns at that. ‘’Wouldn’t it be better if you tell someone than keep it in? Isn’t that the risk you’re afraid to take?’’

‘’And you’re telling me it’s not a risk if I tell you, is that right?’’

‘’Only because I know that no matter what, I’ll still love you, and that whatever you have to say, it won’t change my feelings.’’

‘’I haven’t told you anything yet.’’ Louis says in a small voice.

‘’There’s no rush. I love you anyways.’’

Louis smiles thinly. He looks at Harry and wonders what he did to feel this way. He’s safe, he’s warm and happy all because of a boy’s tender words. For the first time since he’s met Harry, he’s not worried about what might happen to him, because he feels too safe in his presence to think that anything can go wrong. Right now, Harry’s got his arms around him and he’s brushing the underside of his jaw with the back of one smooth finger. It’s soothing and tender, so loving in its simplicity. Right now, he’s at Harry’s mercy and though he hates being under someone else’s control, he doesn’t feel that way with Harry, he doesn’t feel constricted with being wound around his finger, to be completely under his attention with so little effort from Harry’s part.

Still, he has to take a steady breathe, his face contorting to seriousness, trying to remain calm, to keep his sanity. God knows what happens when he loses his mind.

‘’I lost someone.’’ He says, words barely audible. Harry’s so glad he doesn’t bat an eyelash, calm as he listens intently. Louis is avoiding his eyes, staring somewhere at Harry’s shoulder.

‘’Okay.’’ Harry says, quietly, careful not to break the moment.

‘’He was…’’ Louis swallows, voice getting thick. ‘’He was taken from me.’’ Louis’ voice became hoarse. God, the memories are too painful, he tries to blink them away.

It somehow falls into place for Harry, the meaning behind Louis’ words but he is not too sure. He knows Louis is an orphan so maybe he grew close to someone in the orphanage and that person got adopted, leaving Louis behind.

‘’At some point in my life, he was…’’ Louis tries to continue but he keeps inhaling shuddered breaths, releasing little tremors throughout his skin. Harry massages Louis’ shoulder, hoping its inducing comfort. It seems to help keep Louis going.

‘’He was everything to me. Everything.’’ A single tear drops from his left eye as Louis takes a shaky breathe. ‘’And I let him down.’’

Harry’s brow furrows with great concern because shit. If Louis’ opening statement is already inducing water works then what next? And who is this person Louis’ talking about? And why is Louis blaming himself?

Louis wipes his face and sniffs. He looks the other way and picks up his wallet from the bedside table. He swallows audibly, trying to get a hold of himself but his hands won’t stop shaking. He opens his wallet but can’t seem to go beyond that.

‘’There’s a picture I want you to see, if you’d like.’’ Louis says, looking down, avoiding Harry’s gaze. Harry sees the shakiness of his hands so he reaches down and touches the wallet.

‘’The second flap.’’ Louis says. Harry looks at the wallet and touches the photos, bundled in different sections. Most of them are familiar; Stan. Hannah, the boys, even one of Jay. He runs his fingers across the edges of the photos and picks at the second section. He clips the edge of the photo with nimble fingers then looks at Louis for confirmation. Louis nods so he pulls the picture carefully until it’s free from the wallet.

Harry adjusts the photo to its vertical position and looks. It’s an old picture, worn from being compressed and touched several times over the years. It depicts two boys, sitting on the grass with a football. The smaller boy, probably four or five, has the ball in his grip, his small arms wound around it, trying to protect it from the older boy sitting behind him, who is obviously half-heartedly trying to steal the ball but is grinning at the boy sitting between his legs instead. Harry looks closer and realizes the older lad is Louis, a much younger Louis than the current one sitting next to him. The smaller one though, looks exactly like Louis, same hair color, same…Jesus Christ, how?

‘’His name’s Leo.’’ Louis answers his unspoken question. ‘’My baby brother.’’


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel so good about pre-ordering the album but most importantly, the Perfect EP is just so incredible. ''Home'' is just so good, it brings so many feels and the stripped version of perfect is so sweet and the ''drag me down'' remix is bad ass. So, am feeling really good right now, I thought I'd write a little update. Please vote for the boys in the upcoming AMA's, they deserve it. Now, enjoy!

_“Memories are worse than bullets.”_

_-Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind_

 

-Harry is numb; Louis is not lying and the photo is proof. The boy has the same soft-looking brown hair, the same blue eyes. The only difference is that his lips are plump, not thin like Louis’, his hair a bit wavy not fly-away like Louis’ and his pale, snow-colored skin is nowhere near Louis’ tan. But they’re brothers; blood brothers no less. It’s obvious in their facial structures, in their smiles and just…

‘’He was taken from you?’’ Harry asks the first thing that comes to mind.

‘’Yes,’’ Louis says miserably as he takes the photo from Harry, eyes tracing the boy in the picture, the smaller one, tears held back but about to brim over.

‘’Oh Lou.’’ He hugs him, he has to hug him. He pulls Louis in, head on his chest, one hand holding the back of his neck, fingers tangled in the strands of hair, trying to grab a hold of Louis, a hold of himself too.

‘’How? You’re related; how dare they split you apart?’’

Louis’ sounds are quiet but Harry feels his wet skin when Louis presses his damp nose into Harry's neck. He feels him crying, in a sort of quiet choked-off way like he's trying really hard to stop but just can't. The wetness seeping across Harry’s neck is proof that he can’t. It’s too much of a reveal for him and Harry realizes he shouldn’t push for more.

‘’I miss him, Haz.’’ Louis rasps, burying his face in Harry’s chest and it hurts but Harry just pulls him closer.

‘’God, when was the last time you saw him?’’

‘’I was fifteen. He was ten.’’

Oh God, six years???

‘’Shit.’’

Louis is trying not to sob, muffling his sounds in Harry’s shirt and Harry just holds him in tighter. His mind is whirring and he needs a second to calm down. He thinks back to the backstage signing, to how Louis looked so happy with that boy Jerry. God, it all makes sense.

After a while, Louis straightens up and puts the photo precariously back in his wallet, making sure its tucked in safely and being gentle as he folds the wallet back before placing it on the bedside table.

‘’He was such a menace.’’ Louis says, voice rough from keeping his tears lodged in his throat. He tips his head back, slumped against the pillows piled against the headboard, neck trapping Harry’s forearm that he has to spread it across the wooden piece to accommodate Louis. Harry doesn’t mind. He remains close to make sure Louis’ mind doesn’t take off on its own, that he doesn’t become a shell with empty eyes at the wake of his remembrance the way he becomes when he pretends he’s reading.

‘’Loved football more than I did. Mom said he could kick a ball before he could even walk straight.’’ Louis chuckles wetly. Harry is aware that this is the first time Louis mentions his mom, his real one and he softens as he listens. ‘’She dotted on him so much and yet I was so jealous of him but then again, I dotted on him too, I always went all ‘big brother’ on him whenever kids at school bothered him for being scrawny. I had to protect him, he was the baby after all and he needed it. He was such a sweetheart. One time,’’ Louis sniffs as he got into his story. ‘’I was fetching him from school and I saw him pluck a flower for a girl who’d been crying because apparently she ruined her new Barbie shoes playing in the mud. When he ran up to me, he said he wanted to offer her his candy but they were caramel flavor-his favorite-and he couldn’t give it away to her because he wanted to eat it so he gave her a flower instead.’’

Harry smiles; kids that age are just so simple. They may be innocent and naïve, unaware of the reality of life, but it’s nice to see that the world is not all bad, that flowers can make a difference even for the simplest of reasons.

‘’Caramel candies are the best.’’ Harry says for lack of something better to say. Louis smiles, his eyes glistening, glazed over with memories.

‘’He had such a sweet-tooth and when mom got frustrated at him for not eating his veggies, he pouted in a way that you just can’t refuse him. Except me.’’ Louis smiles at the ceiling, remembering something but keeping it to himself. ‘’He always listened to me when I told him to eat his veggies and it frustrated mom even more. If only she knew it was because I snuck him caramel candies for school the next day.’’

Harry laughs.

‘’You’re the original menace, aren’t you, Tommo?’’

Louis nods but when Harry looks closer and catches Louis’ gaze, he sees something frightening and familiar there; a haunted-ness. His nodding caused tears to fall down the side of his face and yet, he’s grinning tightly, with the air of someone cracking under a loosening facade. He’s so obviously heart-broken and it’s such a sore sight to behold.

‘’He learned from the best.’’ Louis says, his voice thick again.

‘’Hey, don’t beat yourself up. We’re talking about good times, love.’’ Harry says as he swipes at Louis’ laugh lines where the tears Louis couldn’t keep in streamed. They don’t belong there.

‘’Those good times were taken from me.’’ Louis croaks out, misery decorating his voice. ‘’He was taken from me.’’

‘’Have you ever tried looking for him?’’ Harry asks, a bit desperately, trying to find a way to uplift Louis.

‘’It was too late.’’ Louis hiccups, chest rising between breathless shudders. He doesn’t seem aware of the question, aware of what exactly Harry is asking, too distraught by his own memories. ‘’I was too late.’’

Harry is right, he thinks. They split them in the orphanage, sending Leo up for adoption and leaving Louis behind. Louis doesn’t have to say it for him to understand even though he is not sure if he should draw out his own conclusions.

‘’Well, maybe he’s with a good family, Lou. Maybe whoever adopted him is kind and lovely to him…’’

‘’Yup,’’ Louis interrupts, his eyes glazing with hurt. Harry sighs. He shouldn’t push the subject.

‘’I’m really sorry, sweetheart.’’ Harry says, the nickname slipping easily. Louis burrows to his side at that, much to Harry’s surprise. He wraps his arms around Harry’s waist, as if seeking protection. Harry hugs him back, thoughts whirling with the new revelation of Louis’ secrets.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy you guys!

_“You know what would be nice though?" Carter said. "Being the center of someone else's universe."_

_Kol Anderson, Once Broken_

_  
_

-Harry keeps their relationship a secret because Louis is obviously not ready for it to be revealed. It doesn’t hurt him or offend him that Louis does not seem inclined to say that they are now in a relationship because honestly, Harry doesn’t feel like it’s quite the right time for it. He feels that’s how Louis sees it, that he’s just not ready to be overwhelmed by the boys’ reaction or concerned about what they think and not that he is ashamed of being with Harry.

They leave their hotel room after Louis’ napped, tired after their talk. Harry sensed that Louis wanted some alone time so he went town to the gym and let his racing thoughts collide with his sweaty work-out, releasing all his sorrows so that he can be strong for Louis again. When he returns, Louis is on the phone with Zayn, who seems to be telling them that it’s time to go. Harry takes a shower then dresses quickly while Louis packs their belongings. They exchange meaningful glances through their ride to the venue and throughout their rehearsals; Louis’ full of gratitude, Harry’s full of love and support. The boys notice but they leave them be.

They’re not as mischievous as they were that other day; instead opting for empty rooms and quiet corners in which they share silent conversations. Louis doesn’t share much, seeming to just need the presence of a warm set of arms, a supportive companion. Harry doesn’t mind when he’s quiet, so he fills the silence with long anecdotes, draws energy from Louis’ minimal smiles, makes it his sole mission to coax them to widen or brighten up and it feels like a small victory so Harry takes what he can get.

He senses it would take a while for Louis to open up again. He doesn’t mind; he’s used to a quiet Louis popping up once in a while just as much as a loud one. He loves him all the same.

 

Liam catches them in a lot of private moments over the next few days and he can tell something’s shifted, especially in Harry. The boy’s touches are sweeter, gentler somehow.

‘’What on earth are you doing?’’ he asks, feigning being scandalized but honestly, he is quite a bit. He is sat next to Harry in the car on their way to a venue and –not that he’s a nosy person or anything- but when you see your band mate opening a knitting app on his phone, it does raise quite the curiosity.

‘’What? Nothing wrong with learning a craft.’’ Harry is quick to defend himself, hiding his phone with the cusp of his hand.

‘’Knitting? Seriously?’’ Liam asks and Harry is quick to shush him almost violently. Liam is not sure if it’s because he doesn’t want to rouse Louis from his nap where he is sat on Harry’s other side, head nodding against the window or if it’s because Harry is embarrassed. He rarely is though so Liam is guessing the former.

‘’What’s that?’’ Niall asks distractedly, playing a vicious game of angry birds on his phone.

‘’Nothing,’’ Harry says immediately and Liam raises a brow. ‘’Okay, it’s something,’’ Harry concedes quietly, only for Liam to hear, before he shrugs and sits back, eyes on his phone. ‘’Just that Louis likes beanies and by the time we get back to London, it would be really cold, so.’’

Liam doesn’t say anything else; too busy hiding a knowing smile. Harry is too busy blushing to say anything about it, rubbing the back of Louis’ hand that had somehow landed on his thigh with his thumb and using it as a distraction to continue the car ride in silence.

A couple of hours later, when Liam was done with an interview he and Niall had to do his, he goes straight for the snack room. He’d been dying for a red bull, somehow and perhaps a muffin would be nice. The door to the room is open and upon entrance, he notices Louis and Harry sitting on the sofa perpendicular to the snack table behind them. Harry is leaning against Louis heavily, one of Louis’ books propped up on Louis’ lap and Louis’ arm looped around Harry’s shoulders. With his free hand, he flips the pages while his other hand is playing with Harry’s hair. Harry’s arms trap Louis’ torso, eyes peering down at the words. They’re sprawled across the leather seat of the sofa with heaps of Caroline’s shirts thrown on the arms, the back, the floor, washing them in color.

Liam stands behind them quietly, looking for a can of Red Bull and trying to be discrete about it as neither Harry nor Louis seems to be aware of his presence, cocooned in their own little world. Harry finishes the page he is reading out loud then Louis flips to the next one. They seem to be alternating, Liam contemplates because when Harry reads, Louis’ eyes close and vice versa. The wall across from Harry and Louis is covered in mirrors for when Lou is working on their make-up and there’s also a mirror in front of the snack table – Liam is not sure what for- so Liam can see what they’re doing. Louis reads the next page, voice clear and engrossed. Liam can’t seem to find his Red Bull and he is contemplating just making coffee but he doesn’t want to make any noise somehow. So, he stands there long enough to notice that when Harry reads, Louis would kiss his hair over and over again, stopping only to start doing it again, like he could kiss Harry’s hair and keep petting it forever. The motion seems fluid and easy, like he’s doing it for not finding anything better to do. When Louis reads, Harry would peck his collarbones, the hollow in the curve of Louis’ neck, and he kisses so reverently, like Louis’ skin is so delicate in the way it peeks out from under his collar. It’s such a fragile moment in its tenderness and so, Liam just leaves as silently as he came, wondering if Harry had finally told Louis about his feelings. Also, he is sure there is a Starbucks across the venue, and he doesn’t mind braving some fans to get one.

 

Their next two concerts are filled with a lot of side-long glances, of Harry asking with his eyes if Louis is okay and Louis asking with his eyes if they’re good. The brushes of skin and the whispering into each other’s ears makes for two very distracted members but they sing like they’re in love and Liam starts to feel absolutely sure that he had missed the big reveal that is Harry’s love declaration for Louis.

 

‘’You told him, didn’t you?’’ he asks later that night, as the bus pulls them away to another state. They’re playing cards, sitting shirtless around their kitchen table. Well, shirtless except for Louis but that’s no longer out of the norm. Harry is sitting between Louis’ legs, fitting in one chair easily with Louis’ arms wrapped around Harry’s waist and Harry’s elbows on the table. Louis whispers in Harry’s ears which cards to play and it’s not cheating, Louis claims, since he’s not actually playing, merely partnering up with Harry.

Harry looks up from his cards, hair falling over his eyes and Louis pressing his face closer to Harry’s neck, his lips just resting there on his skin as he leans in closer to peer at Harry’s cards. God, they’re as sweet as fuck. Liam thinks he wants to gag at the sugary sight of them.

‘’What?’’ Harry asks, distracted as Louis pulls at his cards, spreading them out across his hands, switching the cards’ positions and Harry accommodates, allowing Louis to move his hands and cards as he pleases.

‘’Harry, don’t be thick.’’ Niall says as he drops a few gummy bears on the table, upping his wager. They’re not five, not at all, but they’re also not drowning their bus in their dollar earnings as most of their interviewers seem to think.

‘’Did you tell Louis you love him or not?’’ he asks bluntly.

At this, both Harry and Louis look up to find Liam, Zayn and Niall looking down on their cards and contemplating their moves, as if Niall was asking about the weather.

‘’I fold.’’ Zayn says as he drops his cards. ‘’Your turn, team Harry and Louis.’’ He says through a big yawn.

Harry looks back at Louis and Louis just shrugs before his eyes land back on the game.

‘’Play this one, darling.’’ Louis says as he points at Harry’s cards.

Harry obeys. ‘’I’d like to reveal.’’

‘’Ignoring the question is the same as denying the truth, lads, or confirming, I don’t know. Just saying.’’ Niall says, looking at them through narrow eyes. Zayn’s attention has peaked, no longer slumped on his chair and Liam has finally taken his eyes from his cards.

‘’Fine,’’ Harry rolls his eyes. ‘’I told him. Happy now?’’

‘’Hang on just a second.’’ Liam says, waving his hands around. ‘’You have been in love with Louis for as long as I’ve known you and you didn’t think to tell us right after the big reveal? After we’ve harbored your secret crush on him this whole time?’’

Harry blushes hard and Louis revels in it, pecking his cheek and smiling at him.

‘’Daddy Liam, you’re embarrassing him.’’ Louis chastises teasingly. He chuckles at Harry’s whiny ‘Lou’ then pecks him on the cheek with a long, smacking kiss. Harry blushes scarlet. ‘’Leave darling Hazza be and focus on the game, alright lads?’’

Liam doesn’t know if he wants to melt in his seat or punch Louis for the sappiness.

‘’Good for you, boyfriends.’’ Zayn says casually, patting Harry then Louis on the shoulder. Harry looks at Louis, hoping he's not going to tense up at the word. They haven't exactly discussed labels or making things official and he doesn't want the boys to put Louis in a difficult position. Louis just pecks his cheekbone and mouths, ''its true'' with a fond eye roll. Harry wants to fly. They're officially boyfriends!

‘’Yeah, it’s about time.’’ Niall adds. ‘’Okay, I’ll reveal too. I’ll also up my wager by three red gummybears.’’

‘’You’re on.’’ Louis says as he ups Harry’s wager as well. ‘’Liam, how about you?’’

‘’Well, I am really proud of you guys.’’ He says. ‘’And in terms of this game, I’m gonna up my wager as well and reveal.’’

Niall’s a pair of Jacks, Liam’s a straight flush but Harry’s a full House. They gain a hoard of colorful gummy bears that night which they share between the both of them before falling into Harry’s bunk and falling asleep.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is where we get a little closer to the core of Louis' past. I'm sure you have read the tags - especially the heavy ones. This is not a pleasant chapter but it is important to the plotline of this story. pls proceed with caution.  
> I have drawn certain inspirations to guide me through this chapter. one of which is a book called ''Dont ever tell'' by kathy O'Beirne. Also, a fanfiction called ''Finding heaven when you're stuck in hell'' by smuttythings . all credit goes to the respective authors for any similarities in this chapter.

  
_''Well a long night turns into a couple long years_  
_Of me walkin' around, around this trail of tears_  
_Where the very loud voices of my own fears_  
_Is ringin' and ringin' in my ears_  
_It says that love is long gone_  
_Every move I make is all wrong.''_

_Patty Griffin, Nobody's crying_

 

-As the tour passes its half-way mark, more toddlers make appearances during their backstage meet & greet. Apparently, Louis and Jerry’s interaction was caught on camera and had gone viral, so now every fan of theirs who has a younger sibling would bring them as scapegoat to grab Louis’ attention. It worries Harry to no ends because as much as Louis knows how to deal with kids, having it specifically directed at him with this overwhelming amount is a bit too much. He sees how Louis holds up well though, how he’s all cheerful and much more in control than when it was with Jerry but then later on, he’ll see how it tears Louis up, how Louis spends so much time in the shower or the bathroom afterwards, trying to calm himself down all by himself, refusing Harry’s help. It makes Harry feel so useless.

 

-Another kid, another reminder of what he lost, of what he let slip through his fingers. Another reminder of all the promises he vowed never to break but did. He’d ruined everything and now he’s being punished for it.

He’s in the bathroom of the tour bus, alone because he hates sleeping in hotel rooms when he’s anxious, would rather sleep in the familiar bunk beds in the car park, away from the boys. He’s trying to will away another kid’s face but there has just been too many of them lately, sisters throwing them at him, taunting him. He wants their faces to vanish before it could morph into the familiar features he could never wash from his memory. But no matter what he did, no matter how hard he squeezed his eyes shut, the kid’s face wouldn’t go away.

Today was particularly worse because a father and son wanted a picture with him and he had to stand there, holding the 6-year old in his arms with the kid’s father’s arm looped around his shoulder as the mother snapped photo after photo after photo.

Just the thought creeping back on him makes his hands start to shake and with that, the bottle of pills he’d been squeezing clutters on the sink. The sound shocks him out of it a bit and he picks it up all frenzied, afraid someone might hear. They’re anxiety pills and yet, they never seem to last, especially lately.

He’s been taking them for years and it’s only lately that he’s started taking them as heavily as he did years ago, back when the memory was still so fresh, back when he couldn’t believe what happened no matter what the doctors told him.

Just thinking back on it makes him unable to breathe. The father and son that he’d met today are morphing into a dangerous memory, choking him. He remembers wanting to scream when the man pulled the boy away from his arms after the photos were taken and worse, when the boy tried to cling to him, demanding another photo. A searing memory strikes and he’s drowning in the past again, seeing it all again…

It was a horrible, horrible night. It’s not the worse but it was so bad; he just had to block it out along with the rest and now it’s coming up again, from the bottom of hell…

_He remembers dressing Leo up in his Mickey Mouse P.J.s. They aren’t his favorites- his favorites are the dinosaur print because Louis bought it for him with his lunch money- but his favorite is in the washing so Mickey Mouse it is. Leo’s hands are small on his shoulders, balanced as he rolls one cotton leg up one at a time. Leo is still so pale, never really recovered from his time at the hospital. Louis wants to buy him vitamins but he doesn’t have a job, didn’t have the money for it, and their dad is currently in between occupations so money is tight._

_‘’Okay, little man.’’ He says as he hauls Leo up then tucks him tightly under the blankets. Louis only has one thin blanket, having given his duvet and covers to Leo but it’s okay. He doesn’t want the boy to shiver at night; he’s always running on low enough as it is. ‘’Ready for sleep?’’_

_‘’Yeah, Lou.’’ His voice is syrupy sweet, innocent, unharmed by the world. Louis intends to keep it that way._

_‘’You’re warm and toasty?’’_

_‘’Warm and toasty like toast.’’ He giggles._

_Louis mushes his face into Leo’s cheek, nuzzling his skin and peppering him with kisses that make Leo giggle again, voice higher, lighter, and happy. Louis loves that sound, cherishes it because it’s his heaven in a bad, bad world. He pecks Leo’s temple then straightens up._

_‘’Okay, cheeky boy.’’ Louis says, patting his cheek then his head, his soft hair a homely touch. ‘’You go to sleep now, alright?’’_

_‘’You’ll be here in the morning?’’ he asks._

_‘’Will be here in the morning.’’ Louis obliges._

_‘’Okay. Good night, Lou.’’_

_‘’Good night, kid.’’_

_Louis waits for Leo to close his eyes before he backs out of the room and down the hall into his own. Their rooms are right next to each other and the walls are paper thin so like every night since his own personal hell has started, he does his best not to cry out and startle Leo awake when his dad slips through the door._

_Before the man he calls his father morphed into a monster, Louis would let Leo sleep in his bed. His baby brother hated sleeping alone, especially after their mom left because he feared Louis leaving him too. Louis made up for it though by making sure to wake up before Leo so he could lay in bed with him and wait for him to wake up when morning comes. It always made Leo happy to see Louis then, said it made him feel safe._

_That night, his dad was heavily drunk and he stunk so badly with the smell of booze, Louis felt like throwing up. But that wasn’t the bad part because that night he took it too far, took it way too far. Louis had promised himself not to let it get to him but he didn’t expect what his father did, he didn’t see it coming. He couldn’t help being loud when his father pulled down his pants, he couldn’t help that it hurt when he went into him dry, he couldn’t help crying his eyes out in shock and agony no matter how hard he tried. And he couldn’t help fighting because no, he wouldn’t stay still for this._

_That was a bad idea._

_‘’Quit fidgeting you piece of shit.’’ His father snaps, voice dripping with drunken venom._

_‘’No, stop it.’’ Louis fights, trying to push his father’s weight off him. Again, a bad idea._

_‘’You know what? Take this…fucking prick.’’_

_Louis’ blood runs cold when he hears the leather sound of his father’s belt sliding off the loops of his discarded work trousers. He struggles here because it’s never a good thing when that belt gets drawn out. He hates being tied to the headboard when his father forces his dick into his unwilling mouth like he did some night ago, so he fights to escape but then he’s being held down and he yelps in surprise when his dad whips him. His father never hit him before, never like this and it shocks him when his father does it again and he shouts in pain because why? Why is his father doing this? Why is his father taking the belt to him like this?_

_‘’Now, stop moving!’’ his father orders but Louis can’t help but try to squirm away. He’s being hurt, the feel the buckle of the belt has left on his back hurts and he doesn’t want it, he doesn’t want to be here. He doesn’t know how long his father keeps going, trying to keep him still by whipping him to submission but he can’t. He can’t._

_‘’No!’’ and like his father knows that Louis won’t stop, can’t stop, he takes his actions further. Louis yelps when his dad holds down one of his wrists and loops one end of belt around it, tying the other end to the headboard. Louis tries to fight again, back bleeding, shoulder blades hurting but the man is too strong. He tries to knock him off the bed, tilt him off his balance above his body but his father is puts his knee on Louis’ free arm and presses down so badly, he wails as he felt his elbow about to come of its socket. His other knee is heavy and sharp on Louis’ lower back, pressing him to the bed, digging his freshly-made wounds in._

_‘’No, get off me, get off of me, dad, please…’’_

_The man doesn’t listen, snaps the belt tight to the headboard. The buckle is tight against Louis’ wrist, the metal digging in, the leather rubbing his skin raw. The man’s callous hands reach for Louis’ hips and then…_

_“Lou?”_

_Louis fights harder when he hears the tentative knock on his locked door, the sleepy voice of his baby brother, out there in the hallway, bear-footed and in return gets a stinging jab from his father’s dick. He cries harder because that hurt, because he'd done so well since this whole thing had started and now his brother is out there, awake at such a late hour, worried about him, needing him._

_While he drowns in turmoil, his dad doesn’t seem to give a shit. He pushes into Louis again, his hands hard as steel on his hips and it makes Louis cry out as he tries to slap his father’s thigh weakly with his free hand._

_‘’Lou, what’s going on?’’_

_‘’Go back to bed, go back to bed, Leo, go!’’ Louis tries not to screams but he cannot help the panic in his voice. His words are broken from being rocked into so hard._

_‘’No, let me in.’’ Leo starts to knock frantically at the door. ‘’Lou, I’m scared.’’_

_‘’Just g-go back to your room, little man, p-please?’’ Louis begs but his voice is shot. He can tell he’s bleeding between his quivering legs and he feels sick. He’s breathing so hard he doesn’t know if Leo heard him._

_‘’No, Louis let me in.’’_

_He knows what Leo’s doing then, when he hears the jiggling of the door knob and the thought of his baby brother trying to tear down the door to save him makes him weep._

_‘’Louis, I need you, I can’t sleep by myself tonight, please.’’_

_‘’Leo, go ba...’’ he stifles his wail into his pillow as his father pounds harder. He can feel the man’s weight on his wounded back, his horrible breath against the back of his neck, making his hairs stand up in raw fear._

_‘’Open the door, please! It’s so dark out here, and I can’t reach the switch. Lou!’’_

_Shit, he’s crying, Leo’s crying. Louis tries to get up again, forgetting that he’s tied to the bed so he tries to unbuckle the belt but it’s wrapped so tight, he can feel his skin tearing up. He tries to push his father away again but he’s pushed right back down._

_‘’Dad, please, he needs me,’’ he begs the man towering above him, suffocating him with his weight._

_‘’Shut it! I’m not done.’’ The man growls as he takes and takes without giving a care in the world._

_‘’Dad? Dad, are you in there?’’ he hears Leo say and his gut fills with dread._

_‘’Get back to bed, Leo! Now!’’ his dad barks and his voice cuts the dead of night with his menacing tone._

_‘’Dad, I wanna see Louis. Why won’t you open the door?’’_

_‘’Stop your whining.’’_

_His father is getting angrier and he knows that if Leo doesn’t stop, something terrible will happen. He cannot let his dad open that door with Leo still behind it. He won’t let that happen._

_“Leo,” he says, his voice rough and dry like gritty grains of sand. He needs to stop crying. “Darling, go back to bed, just go back and…ah!” he almost screams his lungs out when his father snaps his hips, rough and cruel. The man leans down and starts biting Louis’ neck, his chest hair grazing the raw wounds on Louis’ back. His booze-smelling breathe hitting Louis’ nostrils and Louis turns his face the other way, trying to move away further but he’s lost his strength._

_Louis is shaking so, so hard, he feels like he’s going to shake apart. He’s trapped, terrified and feeling insurmountable pain from being torn open raw. His clarity is slipping, eyes clogging up against his sweat-drenched pillowcase, breath wheezing. He doesn't know what to do._

_“Dad, stop it, please.’’ He resorts to begging. ‘’Please, stop. You’re hurting me!” Louis cries, pushing at his father by trying to raise himself on his elbows, unaware that he’s being loud._

_His breathe is knocked out of him when his father pulls at his free arm roughly, he felt like his shoulder were dislocating as his arm is pulled to the back, held there as his father puts more of his weight on him, holding his head down and his arm back tight._

_‘’Daddy, stop!’’ Leo bangs on the door. ‘’Louis didn’t do anything, stop hurting him!’’_

_“Leo, don’t. Please.” Louis begs, voice too broken, body too broken._

_‘’Send him away, kiddo.’’ His father threatens; filthy lips sliding from the nape of his neck to the shell of his ear and making him gag. ‘’He’s getting loud out there so you send him away or I’ll do it. I’ll fucking hurt him so help me God…’’_

_“No, no, no, no, no.’’ Louis panics, pulling at both his restrained arms, finally drawing blood from the buckled one. ‘’Don't you touch him, don't you dare fucking touch him...”_

_His father yanks at his hair so sternly, he feels like his scalp is tearing at the seams._

_“Don't you fucking order me around, you slut!’’ his father growls, spit flying across the side of his face. ‘’Make him leave, now!” the man orders before shoving Louis’ head down._

_‘’Lou…’’ Leo’s cries are growing weaker, his small hands still banging against the door and Louis cannot stand to hear how helpless he is._

_‘’Leo,’’ Louis calls in defeat. ‘’Go back to bed, baby boy, okay? I love you so much and I know you love me too so do what I say, okay, darling? Do what I tell you to do when you’re scared. You remember, right?’’_

_‘’No,’’ Leo says, voice small but heard._

_‘’Leave, you fucking little shithead!’’ His father growls, growing impatient, moves erratic, close now._

_‘’No, no!’’ Leo shouts stubbornly, about to throw a proper tantrum. ‘’I want Louis. I want Louis!’’ he wails then just cries, cries, cries._

_Suddenly, the skin slapping against skin tightens when his father releases into him, thick and gruesome and so sudden, that it leaves Louis in shock, his blood leaving him cold. His father keeps going like there’s not tomorrow and Louis feels it all over, like he’s being painted on, doused in heavy, black oil._

_He doesn’t feel anything but raw, primal pain when his father violently tears away from him with no care and the pain shoots up his spine. He hears footsteps padding across the room and when he turns his head, landing in a heap of his own sweat, he sees his father rip open the door, haul Leo from the floor by his waist and throws him on his shoulder._

_‘’You impossible little fuckhead, you’re such a useless prick, a fucking nuisance, no wonder your mother left you, I hate you!’’ he rages, his wrath like a tornado spinning out of control as he slaps Leo across his bum several times, the boy crying out from pain. Louis sees him through his shimmering clogged-up sight, sees his baby brother making grabby hands at him, hears his name being called out and Louis tries; he tries to heave himself from the bed but all he does is draw more blood from his tied-up wrist. He can’t get up so he watches it all happen, watches his father throw Leo like a stack of hay on the floor and shouting at him to run to his room. His eyes blur as he hears Leo’s hurried, unsteady footsteps and he knows what Leo’s doing; he knows that he’s crawling under his bed, hiding there because he’s scared. He knows he’s going to press his palms against his ears and start counting sheep and Louis can’t be with him._

_He drops his head and cries in defeat, his arms strained. His body so sore from being stretched so wide and it’s a pain he knows he’ll never forget._

_He doesn’t know when his father leaves but as soon as he’s done scolding Leo, Louis hears his drunken footsteps echo down the hall, finally away._

_Louis wills himself not to pass out, not to fade away. He gathers up his strength and crawls up his bed till he’s leaning against the headboard. He bites his shoulder to muffle his scream from the pain shooting up his spine again and waits till his head clears. He then unbuckles the belt from his wrist with his free, shaky hand. His wrist is sticky from the blood, the leather of the belt rough and scratchy but he ignores it as he finally sets himself free and limps to Leo’s bedroom, his bear-sized sleeping shirt torn and bloody, pooling down his knee, boxers torn where they'd been discarded on the floor. He leaves it there, torn shirt long enough to cover his lower region and goes to Leo, thinking of no one else, of nothing else. The first thing that hits him is the smell of piss._

_‘’Leo,’’ he says, voice rough from crying. He gets on his knees, body aching. He sees his baby brother, rattling on the cold floor, his hands still pressed against his ears._

_‘’Leo,’’ he calls, his voice shot. ‘’C’mere, love.’’_

_Leo crawls to him, crying silently as Louis carries him, hand under his wet bum and Leo cries harder, drenching Louis’ neck with tears._

_‘’Shh, baby, shh, it’s okay. Your big brother’s here now. It’s okay.’’ He comforts as he limps and gets Leo a new pair of underpants and an one-sie. He huddles to the bathroom and sets Leo in the bathtub, undressing him then using the shower head to clean him up, making sure to keep his head dry so he doesn’t sleep with wet hair. He keeps his voice low, unable to set it higher anyway and he doesn’t care if he loses it tonight so long as he doesn’t lose Leo._

_When he’s done, he carries the boy back to his room then says he’ll be right back. Leo is quiet and unresponsive so Louis makes it quick._

_He goes back to the bathroom and he just wants to clean himself up but seeing the blood down his legs makes him finally throw up in the toilet. He gags and heaves and when he’s done, he strips up and gets in the tub. He wants to be quick so he directs the shower head here and there, washes the blood and semen between his legs and the blood flowing from his back until the water clears, mind numb, unthinking. He wipes himself down with his shirt, brushes his teeth and gulps down a glass of water then wraps a heavy bandage around his still bleeding wrist. The cut is not deep, thank goodness but it will scar. He doesn’t care. He goes to his room and dresses up in another pair of PJs, placing a towel between his back and his shirt to stop the bleeding there. He doesn’t want to think about the warm wetness lingering between his legs because that’s a pain that won’t go away. He then heads to Leo’s room and crawls under the blankets._

_Leo looks up at him and starts to cry again. Louis tucks him in his arms, rubbing a gentle hand up and down his baby brother’s sore bum till he stops crying. He tells him sorry over and over again till he’s about to pass out, hands loose around his small frame. He didn’t soap up from wanting to be quick and he hates that he smells like his father’s booze and drunken breathe._

_‘’You smell funny,’’ Leo nudges at him, like he can read his older brother’s mind. Louis feels so ashamed._

_‘’Okay, I’ll go draw a bath.’’_

_‘’No, don’t leave again.’’ Leo clings to him. ‘’I’m sorry, that wasn’t a nice thing to say.’’_

_Louis wants to cry but his eyes have run dry._

_‘’It’s okay.’’ He croaks out._

_‘’Are you alright?’’_

_‘’I’m fine, little man.’’_

_‘’Are you sure? Leo asks. ‘’You don’t sound okay.’’_

_And how can he be okay? Just last night when his father had finally slipped his grimy fingers out of him (It was the first time he’d ever been fingered and it was so unpleasant, a searing memory he wants to block out) he’d threatened Louis, telling him that if he breaths one word of what’s going on, the authorities will separate him and Leo and the thought of never seeing his baby brother again is just torture. What happened tonight was even more unacceptable and he can’t be okay  with it but he can’t breathe a word of it to anyone. He can’t lose Leo over this. He has to be able to take it, has to be able to endure his father’s filthy actions next time and stay in control or else Leo will get hurt._

_‘’I’ll be okay now.’’ Louis rasps, trying to shake the words out of his head. ‘’Don’t worry about me, love.’’_

_His brother looks up at him and only then did Louis notice that his angelic little face is still wet with tears._

_‘’Why d-didn’t you let me i-in?’’ Leo hiccups. ‘’And why was he h-hurting you?’’_

_“He wasn’t, darling.” he lies softly, feeling the worst he's ever felt, but knowing he has to comfort Leo, even if it means lying to him. “And I’m sorry I didn’t let you in but it was past your bedtime so you shouldn’t have been up. Besides, I didn’t want to worry you, baby. I’m fine, I promise.’’ he whispers again, pulling Leo further into his arms. They still feel strained, his wrist aching but he’d rather strain them around Leo than not comfort him right now._

_“No, I don’t think you are.’’ Leo says, shaking his head as fresh tears welled up his eyes. “You were crying, I heard you.’’_

_Louis cannot do anything but shush him, trying to stop shaking, trying to calm down. His face is sticky with dry sweat and his lower body feels disgusting, searing and aching. His bum, back and thighs, every part of him hurts but he has to put Leo first. He’s made promises to always put Leo first and he won’t back out of it now._

_‘’You were crying too,’’ Louis says. ‘’I’m so sorry he hurt you.’’_

_‘’My bum does hurt a little bit.’’ Leo admits._

_‘’I know, I’m so sorry.’’ Louis shuts his eyes tight. He doesn’t want to cry again._

_‘’Lou, why does daddy hate me? '' Leo asks quietly then mutters just as much. ''I miss mom.''  
_

_‘’Baby,’’ Louis wells up. This never should’ve happened. They cannot think about her anymore. She’s gone, it’s over, she left them but Louis is here. He has to be enough and just why can’t he be? It’s agony, the thought of being inadequate. If only he’d been quiet, if he hadn’t fought back, Leo wouldn’t have been spanked; he wouldn’t have been thrown away like a rag-doll, he wouldn’t have wet himself. He wouldn’t have woken up to his noises. It’s all his fault._

_‘’I’m so sorry.’’_

_‘’It’s okay.’’ Leo says, sensing his turmoil. ‘’You make it better.’’_

_‘’I do?’’_

_‘’Yeah, you stayed. She didn’t. You know how to take care of me.’’ Leo huddles closer, little fingers clinging to his shirt._

_‘’I wish I could do better.’’ Louis admits._

_‘’You can hold me to sleep?’’ Leo says and he’s so, lovely, so sweet. He doesn't deserve to get hurt.  
_

_“Okay, I will. Let’s sleep, then,” he says._

_‘’You’ll be here when I wake up?’’ Leo asks, and Louis knows he’s pouting, worried still._

_He brings a hand up and wipes the tears off his brother’s face. He then re-wraps his arms around his little body and presses his lips atop his head._

_‘’I’ll always be here, I’ll always take care you, never let him hurt you again, little man. Never let anybody hurt you, I promise.’’_

_‘’You promise.’’_

_‘’I promise.’’ He says with several kisses pressed to the crown of Leo’s head. ‘’I love you so much and I’m so sorry. Always remember that, okay? I love you.’’_

_It’s the last thing he says before he drifts off, his brother’s puffs of breath lulling him to safe shores._


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was inspired by a couple of lovely fics i drew inspiration from;  
> ''the man who took everything'' by imaginelarry and ''look after you'' whose tumblr is ''theonewiththelarrystories''. all credit goes to the respective authors for any similarities whatsoever. having said that, this will be my last update for a while, as in, it might take a week for me to update again as i have been writing non-stop and i am quite emotionally drained. till next time guys!

_''Be with me always--take any form--drive me mad. Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! It is unutterable!''_

_Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights_

 

Louis couldn’t breathe. He’s shocked out of his memory with a strangled gasp and it feels like his lungs are about to seize up and shut down.

God, he remembers that night, he remembers it so vividly, he doesn’t understand how he had managed to block it out, how the barriers he’d built around it crumbled to ash.

He remembers Leo’s voice, muffled by his old bedroom’s locked door but so distinct. He remembers his cries, his pleas, the sound of his hands banging on wood, begging for comfort, begging to be let in.

More air refuses to enter his system no matter how much he gulps. He can feel his throat closing and tightened in upon itself, forcing his vision to blur.

He knows he was leaning against the sink so he doesn’t know how he’s on the floor right now, legs crossed, hands wrapped around himself, his fingers forming scratch marks against his forearms. The feel of the floor is cold against his bum, just the way it felt when he got on his knees and crawled under Leo’s bed, cold the way he felt when he’d found Leo that night, curled in on himself, hands covering his ears, tears staining his face, freezing. Remembering the sight of him hurts and he wants to comfort him so badly, wants to haul him out of there and warm him up under fuzzy blankets and not ratty thin ones, wants to embrace him with strong arms and not strained ones, wants to keep his promises to him. His fingers press tighter against his skin with want, with this crushing need of his to make amends, to do all the things he should’ve done but didn’t, couldn’t.

He doesn’t know that he’s rocking slowly, subconsciously, his forehead landing unabashedly on the ceramic edge of the toilet, making a thud, thud sound.

Yes…He deserves what’s happening to him, deserves this heartache, this bitter feeling in the pit of his gut. It was all his fault, back then, it was all his doing. If only he’d learned to shut his mouth, if only he’d learned to stay silent…He rocks faster, the rhythmic smack of his head harsh against the stainless steel yet it’s oddly comforting, the pain no less than he deserves it to be. He feels dirty, bloody down there between his legs, his father’s cum dripping, drying on his skin. He starts to scratch his thighs, trying to scrape it off. Leo said he smelled funny and he doesn’t like, he doesn’t like Leo smelling his father’s stench on him. The smell has to go away, it has to go away.

‘’Louis?’’ a knock on the bathroom door accompanies the sound of his name but Leo can’t come in, he’s too dirty.

‘’I’m too dirty, go away.’’ His voice is slight, not loud enough for Harry to hear because he can’t breathe, fighting to drink in oxygen, to pour it into his body but its sparse. All he wants to do is breathe. He just wants air, wants silence. He wants to will his tears away so Leo won’t think he’s hurt.

The sharp clicking sound of a doorknob being turned fills his ears but he’s barely there to really register it. The click stops just as soon as it’s started though because the door’s locked. His father always locks the door when he’s playing with him, taunting him, torturing him with his disgusting words and his disgusting touches, fuck. How dare he touch Leo with those hands of his? How dare he allow that to happen?

“Lou?” It’s Harry, his Harry, turning the knob to and fro, knocking lightly on the wooden door but it could also be Leo, lovely Leo who needs to go back to his room or else his dad...

 

-Harry had been out to a party with some friends and was surprised that Louis wasn’t in their shared room when he returned. He knows Louis likes the bunk beds but he’d thought after they’ve coupled up that he’d like to spend more time in the hotel room, preferably with Harry.

So, he passes by Liam’s room, where he finds Niall and Zayn as well, watching some teen drama and asks about Louis. They say he’s in the bus as usual, with an eye roll from Zayn, meaning, _do you even have to ask?_ And well, he does have a point. He wants to talk to Liam though, wants to ask him about what Zayn told him, but opts for going to Louis instead, his boyfriend. God, he can’t get used to it; Louis is finally his boyfriend.

So, after saying ‘good night’ to the boys, he goes to the car park where their tour bus is and heads for Louis’ bunk only to find it empty. Then the thudding sound fills his ears, filling his heart with dread, because not again. This time, he traces the sound to the bathroom but the door’s locked and he can’t get in and it makes him worry full scale, blazed out with concern at how long Louis had been there. Fuck, he can hear him breathing, so unsteady and what’s with that thudding sound?

‘’Louis?’’ he calls. In return he hears a mumble but it’s indistinct. ‘’Lou?’’

He gets nothing but the sound of shaky breathing.

“Lou, are you alright?”

Louis can’t answer. His lungs are still tight, he can’t breathe. Harry tries the door again but it’s useless and it only makes Louis breathe harder apparently so he becomes silent, waiting.

Louis doesn’t like it, because it feels like that very first night when his father just loomed over him, snaking his eyes all over his body. Another memory, hitting him like an avalanche and just fuck it, fuck everything! Louis doesn’t want to remember anything right now, because the whole point of him being locked in the bathroom in the first place was so he could forget a kid’s face, an unknown kid’s face and his fucking no excuse of a dad and-. 

“Lou,” Harry’s voice is shaky. “Just… just open the door, okay? Just calm down, and breathe then open the door. It’s just me, Lou, just me.”

-He’s so fucking stupid for letting Jerry go, for letting all those kids go, just as he was stupid that very first night. He should’ve locked the door but he didn’t, never did because of Leo, because his baby brother would get lonely and scared by the dark and would slide under his blankets to cuddle with him. His father took that away from him, replacing his nights of warmth and comfort with nights of terror and shame behind locked doors.

He’s rocking faster now, his head banging a little too loud, Harry’s voice wrought with concern but far in the distance. He doesn’t notice, too tied up in his thoughts…What kind of person lets his father hit his baby brother like that? He feels dirty, *thud* unworthy, *bang* useless, *thud* ashamed, *bang*. His own brother said he smelled funny and he needs to wipe it off, needs to wipe it off, needs to fucking wipe it…

“Louis? Lou, shit, what the hell are you doing?! Louis, Stop it! Stop it, baby. You’re hurting yourself.” He’s choking on air, scratching frantically, but a door has been stormed through behind him, followed by movement beside him, someone screaming, gently reaching out to touch.

‘’Need to wipe it off, need to get it off, need to stop crying…’’ he’s not aware of what he’s muttering but Harry is kneeling next to him, wrapping his arms around him and holding him tightly so he couldn’t rock.

Harry is trying not to freak out. Louis is wearing a long sleeved white shirt but there’s blood on the sleeves from Louis’ nails. He’s also wearing a long, loose pair of basketball shorts that don’t hide the scratch marks on Louis’ thighs because they’re drawn up high and God, Harry can see all his scratch marks, old and new, mixing together, marring Louis’ skin and shit, how did he not see this?

Louis struggles against him, tries to shrug him off but the younger boy only grips him more tightly. “Stop it, Lou, you’re hurting yourself. Just, stop, okay?”

He feels Harry’s hand on his cheek then his forehead, trying to wipe off his fringe to see his face and hears him gasp. He’s not aware that Harry’s palm just came out red with his blood.

Harry’s green eyes are wide with shock because Louis is still so out of it, still muttering nonsense. “God, you’ve split your head. Louis, stop moving, you’re gonna knock yourself out.’’

Louis stares up at him and Harry finds it scary as fuck because his eyes are empty, dazed. Harry looks so concerned and Louis frowns. He can’t have that, he can’t have Harry upset. He needs to take care of him, needs to protect him, what if he’s frightened? God, he needs to stop crying.

“I-I need to stop crying.” He mutters and his voice sounds strange, shot. He doesn’t sound like himself. He sounds scared, like a lifeless doll. His voice is empty. “You can’t help me. I need to stop.”

“I can try,” Harry argues gently, desperate to do something, anything to make Louis feel like he’s not alone anymore. And Louis’ been so grateful to him lately, knowing Harry was there for him, but he can’t make the memories fade. They’re a part of him, like his very limbs. He cannot cut off his limbs, can’t tear them apart from him. Louis wishes he could.

‘’Help me,’’ he wants Harry to help him cut off his abused arms, his marred legs but he doesn’t know how to ask.

‘’Then let me. Just, talk to me, please?’’ Louis shakes his head. Harry is not listening to him. Fuck. Can’t he see his dad’s fingerprints on his skin? Can’t he feel him on his arms? Why isn’t he helping him with scraping the scent of booze off? Fuck.

‘’Louis, please, pay attention to me, sweetheart. It’s Harry, your Hazzie, your four-nippled, frog-faced, dimpled Harry, who buys you broccoli for lunch even though you hate it then buys you ice-cream because I can’t stand you pouting at me for too long.’’ He croaks, tears in his voice. ‘’It’s just your Haz, baby. Come back to me. I miss you. I need you to be okay for me, please?’’

Louis doesn’t like the worry and fear he sees in Harry’s eyes whenever he woke from a fitful sleep, and it’s the exact same way Harry is looking at him right now. It’s a strong reminder of Leo’s face, a daunting resemblance to what he saw that night, hurt from being wrongfully spanked and God he misses Leo so much, wants to take his father’s slaps away, wants to turn back time and stop crying so loud. He feels like he’s slipping away again, aching to go back, aching to delve into his memories and try to change it.

“Louis, please,” Harry’s voice is louder now.  "Come back to me’’.

‘’Need to stop…’’ he chokes, hyperventilating.

“Lou, sweetheart, I need you to breathe, just please breathe for me, okay? You can do it, please, you have to breathe. I love you, please do this for me. I love you.” comes the voice of an angel, the loving voice of Harry, his Harry, the boy who loves him, his voice so desperate and coaching, trying to pull him back to shore.

 

So he tries, he does, but he can’t seem to follow the pattern of breathing in and out. Everything’s fuzzy, view still glazed and he flutters his eyes open to catch a blurry glimpse of the toilet seat coated in red, like the crimson color coming from the gap between his thighs and shit, he’s shaking his head against Harry’s chest, scratching his thighs back and forth slightly shaking between Harry’s arms, tethering between two different types of realities, trying to go one way or the other, into the present or into the depth of his memories, this flashback. The in between is too hard to handle.

‘’Louis, please, let me in. You’re scaring me. I need you to let me in...’’

"Leo,” Louis whispers, his voice weak. He isn’t even sure Harry heard him, not sure he’s really there. There are voices in his head, from the past that isn’t so far away anymore but clear as glass and shiny as knives, bringing forth words that are too haunting, too sharp; they cut deep into his bones.

Louis’ eyes are darkened over, tears flowing from them, broken dams breaking into waterfalls. The bags under his eyes are too dark, too heavy that they seem to weigh down his cheekbones, weighing down an emptiness he wishes he could fill up with baby kisses and innocent giggles mushed into his face, now washed away by monsters.

“Leo,” he repeats, more tears spilling from his eyes, knocking off his trembling chin, blood gushing down the side of his nose. He can’t breathe, he can’t focus, can’t think of anything less painful than the hollow, the void spilling from between his bones.

“Shh, Lou, shh. Listen to me; I need you to focus on me, Harry, your boyfriend who loves you so much. Look, it’s just me,’’ he feels his hand being picked up, separating his blood-coated nails from his thigh, feels kisses against the back of his hand, against his knuckles. ‘’He’s not here, I know you miss Leo but he’s not here and I’m sorry but I’m here, okay? I’m right here and it’s just you and me, c’mon darling, focus on me please, breathe in and out, hush sweetheart, shh.” Harry says, and there are more kisses being pressed to his skin, to his wet cheeks, to his temple, to his own trembling lips.

He’s suddenly just so tired and he can’t do anything but fall into the arms of Harry, who holds him tight. He’s not aware that he’s sobbing into his chest, too tired to stop, too tired not to latch onto his smell, his soothing scent, his soft words.

Together, as the minutes tick by, Harry waits for Louis to breathe, soothing him, kissing the crown of his head. When Louis’ ragged breathing turns to sniffing and hiccuping, Harry reaches back with his free arm and grabs a fluffy towel form under the sink. He wipes the blood from Louis’ forehead, spilt across his face, cleans the remnants of it from the edge of the toilet. He wipes his snot and tears with a clean part of the towel as Louis’ gets heavier on him. He throws the towel away and wraps his arms securely around Louis.

Louis had gone quiet again so he whispers nonsense words in his ear, scratching at the back of his head in a soothing manner until he can feel Louis’ muscles weaken, slumping even heavier against him, dim- lidded and exhausted. 

Harry looks down at him and kisses his bruised forehead. Louis struggles to look up at him, having to force himself to reopen them when he blinks. Harry can see how tired he is, doesn’t want Louis to stay up at his expense.

“Go to sleep, darling. I got you. Get some rest.” 

Louis sighs, letting his head fall back on Harry’s chest, shutting his eyes gradually. His breathing settles out, finally calm.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an update, yay!  
> so, a massive shout-out to a very inspiring fic; ''fading'' by tothemoonmydear. read this one you guys, its really great.

_“Nothing makes a room feel emptier than wanting someone in it.”_  
_― J_

 

-Harry sits with him for a long time before eventually hauling Louis up and placing him in the nearest bunk, which happens to be Liam’s. He pulls a couple of wet wipes from his duffle back and wipes away the blood on Louis’ forearms then his thighs. He’s gentle with his touch, even though he’s flushing at the thought of touching Louis’ skin in such a sensitive area. He wants to trace the old scars and scratch marks but it feels a bit privy to do that when Louis’ passed out so he stop, pulls down the bloody sleeves and the hem of Louis’ shorts and tucks him in.

He goes back to the bathroom and wrinkles his face at the sight of the broken lock. He never thought he’d be able to take a door down, even if it is just a cardboard-like thin wooden door, but he’s grateful that his gym exercises are bearing into fruition. Who knows what could’ve happened if he’d left Louis in there any longer.

He shudders at the thought and tries to remain calm as he throws the wet wipes in the bin and reaches for the towel he threw away. He intends to wash it so that the boys don’t ask where the blood came from but then he catches sight of a bottle of pills in the sink. Calmly, he picks it up and reads that the prescription is for a Tomlinson, W. Louis. Shit.

They’re some sort of anxiety pills, he reads. Shit.

 He doesn’t know what to do and no matter how curious he is, he can’t wake Louis up and demand answers after his breakdown. So, he tucks the bottle of pills in his pocket and rinses the towel. The sight of blood streaming down the drain makes his fingers shake and he has to stop for a minute and grit his teeth to stop himself from screaming.

He can’t let this go on. He can’t let Louis keep shutting him away. He needs answers.

He always waits though, because he knows Louis, and he knows if he presses, Louis will just shy away further and he knows that, is well aware of it and it hurts when he tries to ask because Louis would just smile at him with his lips pursed together and it makes him feel like prying instead of asking if his boyfriend is okay.

Harry doesn't mind that Louis hasn’t said ‘I love you’ to him yet, because he thinks maybe the pursed lips are to hold back the words, simply because he’s not ready to get them out but that means they’re there, the words merely hiding.

Louis’ nightmares or panic attacks- he doesn’t know what to call Louis’, what, episodes?- are getting out of hand and lately he’d been looking marginally depressed, just a little further back in his shell than usual, more anxious and jumpy. Harry tries his best to be there, to hold him, to ground him. It helps sometimes, coaxing him out of his quiet state, taking whatever book he’s not reading from his lap and replacing it with his weight. Louis holds him so tight, like he’s trying to hold on.

Harry knows that Louis has a lot of walls and with Leo’s revelation; he knows he’s only been able to crack one of them down. He also knows that behind those walls Louis is fragile and hurt.

It’s so obvious in the way Louis sometimes struggles to make eye contact with anyone who showers him with flattery, the way he always puts the boys in front of him when meeting new people and stands last in line because he pales at hearing compliments, the way he'd shy away from the boys sometimes when they think he needs something, the way he’d listen to them talk for hours on ends, happy to be in a corner of the room. They had a talk show to attend one time and the host –he thinks it was Letterman or Jimmy Kimmel, he’s not sure- asked them about their favorite dinner dish and each of them had to take a turn to speak, as the host asked they go down the row for their asnwers. Louis just teased Liam about his answer and turned it into an amusing segment that got everyone in the audience laughing, diverting the attention completely from him, right there on national TV. It’s always like that; when it comes his turn to share, he looks like he’s wilting then his walls are back up with a joke or a teasing comment. Sometimes when it’s just them, and they’re asking him his opinion on a personal matter, he’d just shrug and escape to his bunk bed or the bathroom.

Harry sighs and it’s late. He escapes to his bunk bed as well, hoping that when Louis wakes, he’ll explain everything to him.

 

-Its early morning, at the brink of dawn and Louis wakes up alone with a gasp, and the first thing he looks for is Leo. He looks under the bed he’s lying in, but there’s no one there, no small body huddled in the cold. He starts to panic. Did his father take him away? Did they take him away again?

Dread slams into him like a crashing wave, knocking him over and dragging him under with its powerful force, and he’s crying out and clawing at his face, crying but trying to wipe at his eyes because if they’re welled up he won’t be able to see and he needs to see past his tears. He needs to find Leo, God, where is he?

He’s pulling on his hair before he knows it and beating his hands against his thighs, needing to let it out. He’s done it again, he’s lost Leo again, and he feels like crawling out of his skin for all the dirty and wrong and awful things he did. 

And then Harry is there, having slept in his own bunk for sure to be this close by, and his voice is panicked as he rushes to Louis’ side, eyes wide and sparkling green like algae. 

“Lou baby,” he breathes, landing harshly on his knees and pulling Louis to him, cradling his head in his big hand and rubbing his back, kneeling between his legs and pressing kisses to his temple. 

It grounds him, brings him back a bit but he feels horrible because it doesn’t change anything. Leo’s gone, he’s gone.

“I miss him. So much.” Is all he can say, and he whimpers at the heavily-cemented ache in his chest that has not subsided with the tears, that he thought was gone all those years ago, that he thought he’d pushed aside and are now resurfacing with a vengeance. He feels crumpled in on himself, feels so weak. It’s been six years. Why is this happening?

‘’Baby,’’ is all Harry says before he’s being pulled back, soft lips are being pressed to his thin ones, warm and reassuring, all encompassing. “I know,” Harry says before pecking his upper lip, “I’m sorry,” then his lower lip “come back,’’ between more kisses, ‘’come back to me,” It draws him out further but he’s still hazy on the edges. Harry’s kisses are pulling him out from the depth of his darkness though, tethering him to safety.

Louis starts to kiss back, needing it like his new found air, breathing Harry in as his new oxygen and it feels fresh, like his pores are being opened after being too clogged up.

“There you go, baby. Good job, you’re doing great,” Harry keeps kissing him, keeps giving him these sweet little affectionate pecks, while his free hand rubs his back up and down in smooth strokes.

‘’I love you.” Harry whispers when he pulls back just a little. Louis just stares at him, watches his lips move and he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t deserve it; he’s wretched, he’s a disappointment. He lets everybody down.

Fearing he might get lost in his head again, Harry slowly kisses his face, like he’s trying to clear him of his thoughts, clear away his crumbling features.

Louis’ vision comes back into focus, his heart slows and his breathing finally calms down and evens out. He pulls back a little bit to see Harry looking at him, eyes green and sad, wet with unshed tears, lips a dark rouge color. Harry’s cheeks are dotted pink, the same color Louis saw when the curly-haired lad first kissed Louis all those days ago and God; Harry looks so heartbroken.

“Baby?” Harry asks, and Louis eyes well up. He’s so embarrassed. He shakes his head, looking down at his lap then he head-butts Harry’s chest, defeated.

“P-please,” Louis sobs into Harry’s shirt. “Please hold me, I need you right now.”

Harry complies immediately, pulling Louis tighter to his chest and holding him steady. Louis mushes his face into Harry’s chest, breathes in his scent and his skin

“Yeah, Lou. I got you.”

‘’I’m so, so sorry. I’m so fucked up,’’ he mutters angrily.

‘’No, love, nothing to be sorry for. You’re allowed to be sad, okay? It’s warranted. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” Harry says sternly, hoping Louis understands.

“Please, stay with me,” Louis mumbles, breathing in Harry’s smell. He knows his crying will stop soon and he’s so tired he wants to sleep but he can’t have Harry leave him because the presence of his boyfriend is the only thing calming him. He clings to Harry tighter. “Don’t leave me right now.”

“I won’t,” Harry swears his tears moist in Louis’ hair. “I’ll never leave, I promise.”

 

-Harry stays awake until the sun is up and he researches while Louis sleeps, typing away frantically on his phone.

Louis’ head is on his stomach, using Harry’s torso as a wrap-around pillow. He searches Google, trying to understand what his boyfriend is going through because he’s pretty positive that this has more to do than just missing someone. He even goes as far as searching for a Leo Tomlinson on Facebook but it has always been a long shot and its proven when his search comes out empty. He knows that if Leo’s adopted then there’s no way he’s going to be holding the same surname but it was worth the search. He also looks for a Leo Troy Austin but it’s in a vain, there’s just so many carrying the same name, he doesn’t know who is who.

He writes down the name of the medicine written on Louis’ prescription bottle and branches out from there. He reads about trauma and flashbacks, night terrors and panic attacks and his heart clenches because he reads the reasons too and most of them relates to abuse and just…shit.

‘’Oh God.’’ he whispers and he almost chokes on the words as he feels his stomach drop, clinging to Louis tighter, willing himself not to cry.


	16. Chapter 16

_“The suspense: the fearful, acute suspense: of standing idly by while the life of one we dearly love, is trembling in the balance; the racking thoughts that crowd upon the mind, and make the heart beat violently, and the breath come thick, by the force of the images they conjure up before it; the desperate anxiety to be doing something to relieve the pain, or lessen the danger, which we have no power to alleviate; the sinking of soul and spirit, which the sad remembrance of our helplessness produces; what tortures can equal these; what reflections of endeavours can, in the full tide and fever of the time, allay them!”_  
_― Charles Dickens, Oliver Twist_

 

-‘’Liam, I need to talk to you.’’

 

It’s been three days and Louis is in his hotel room, reading. Louis had refused to talk about his breakdown, saying he needs space. He spent the first two nights in his bunk bed, not joining the boys in the after parties or sight-seeing, avoiding the boys when they got back on the road. He would stay silent on the couch in the lounge room when Harry would drag him to stay with them, only to return to his bed when Harry could no longer prod him to stay.

Harry wants to stay with him but Louis keeps pushing him away, demanding space.

He finally decides to talk to Liam when sharing a hotel room filled with radio silence gets to him. Not to mention that the boys have noticed their distance and so maybe they could help, maybe they can see something he can’t, give him pointers on what to do. Harry misses Louis; wants to fix him, wants to coax him out of this iron-clad shell he’d created for himself. But he realizes bitterly that he can’t do it on his own.

It’s a feat that he was able to get Louis to the hotel room on the third day of this ongoing tension rather than stay cooped up in Bus 1 in the car park but then Louis refused Harry’s offer of dinner, and gave no verbal reason as to why and Harry’s just…had it. He can’t stay in a room with an empty shell of the possible love of his life. It just hurts too much. So he just hands Louis his bottle of pills which he’d kept all this time and leaves him with an intense look, telling him to take all the time he needs. Louis remains quiet as he takes his pills back, eyes averted. It hurts to look at him and yet, it’s still a struggle walking away.

 

‘’What’s wrong?’’ Liam says. He’s on the couch, logged into twitter. Niall had opened the door for him on his way out to some party, promises pizza on his return. Harry had given him a half-hearted wave then cuts straight to the chase when he and Liam are finally alone.

Liam puts his phone away when he sees the serious look in Harry’s eyes.

‘’It’s about Louis. I-I need to talk to you about Louis.’’ Harry tries to remain calm, tries to feel like he’s not betraying Louis’ trust. He’s got Louis’ wallet in his hands after he’d nicked it when Louis wasn’t looking, too focused on his stupid book. God, he hopes he’s focused on his book anyways and not floating away in his head.

‘’Yes, what about?’’ Liam asks carefully as Harry sits on the armchair adjacent to him.

‘’Zayn said something about, how Louis used to wake up in the middle of the night back in the x-factor. Said you were the one who noticed.’’ Harry starts.

‘’Yes, but we were always so nervous back then, I just thought it was a coping mechanism to handle his nerves.’’ Liam shrugs. ‘’I don’t know, he was always bouncing off the walls, like he could never get tired or something. I thought maybe he’d just go to the lounge room and watch late night telly. I use to find him passed out on the couch the next morning with some DVD on static or in the kitchen making tea.’’

‘’But he’d usually get up from my bunk, like, is that the reason he’s never there in the morning, do you think?’’

‘’Definitely not because of you, Harry. I’m sure he was just anxious is all.’’

He hits the nail right on the head of it, Harry thinks as he tries to zoom in subtly with what he’s about to say.

‘’He still does that, you know. But they’re bad nights, Li. I think he’s worse now than before. And they’re not what you think.’’

‘’Okay,’’ Liam drawls, brow wrinkled, confused.

‘’Liam, I think, shit, I don’t know how to say this.’’ Harry mutters. He can’t think straight, feels like he’s grasping at straws the way he bends forward and holds his head in his hands, leaning his elbows on his knees.

‘’Haz, geez, what’s going on?’’

‘’I don’t know how to tell you, I’m scared.’’

‘’Scared of what? Harry, you’re scaring me. Is this still about Louis?’’

‘’Yes,’’

‘’Then tell me.’’

He picks his head up and sees Liam’s worried, puppy eyes, big and concerned.

‘’I need you to be calm first, and I need you to keep this between us, okay?’’ he says as he straightens up, body angled towards Liam. ‘’And don’t freak out.’’

‘’Okay, sure.’’ Liam says, swallowing and maintaining eye contact.

‘’Okay, okay.’’ Harry says, mostly to himself. He pulls out Louis’ wallet from his back pocket, and slowly, carefully, pulls out the picture. It still sends chills down his spine because he can still hardly believe this to be real. It’s a part of Louis that’s so major, so huge; he doesn’t know how Louis’ kept it all this time. No wonder he’s exploding with the weight of it.

‘’Remember, don’t freak out.’’ He warns as he places the worn-picture on the coffee table. Liam frowns. He picks up the photo a bit carelessly.

‘’Be careful, it’s old.’’ Harry scolds.

Liam spares him another confused look before he lightens his touch. He peers at the photo, looking here and there.

‘’That’s Louis.’’ He says, pointing at the older boy in the photo.

‘’Yes,’’ Harry says, waiting for it. Liam can be so thick sometimes.

‘’And who’s the kid?’’ Liam asks, looking at him.

‘’For chrissake, look closely, Liam.’’ He urges.

Liam looks at the photo again, eyes intense. Harry sees something click in Liam’s eyes.

‘’Looks like a younger playmate to me.’’ Liam says but he knows he’s not seeing something, and it’s big but he cannot grasp it. ‘’They look quite alike though.’’

‘’Liam, I know you just don’t believe what you’re seeing so I’ll tell you and trust me, this is nothing compared to how big it gets, okay?’’ Liam nods minutely because there’s dread pooling in his stomach at what Harry’s about to say.

‘’That other boy in the picture, his name’s Leo.’’ Harry gulps. ‘’He’s Louis’ baby brother.’’

Harry’s never seen eyes bulge so wide. Liam looks at him for so long like Harry had grown horns or a second head then he peers down as fast as lightening, examining the photo like he’s looking through a microscope.

‘’No fucking way,’’ he gapes. ‘’No fucking way, Jesus Christ.’’

He looks at the photo for a long time, eyes big and shocked. Harry leaves him to it, needs Liam to calm down.

‘’How? They…blood brothers? How? Just…’’ Liam stutters.

‘’Li, listen…’’

‘’He’s an orphan!’’ Liam cries. ‘’How is this fucking possible?’’ he demands, wiggling the photo in Harry’s face, fingers too tight.

‘’Give me the photo, Liam. Christ, you’re gonna ruin it.’’ Harry says sternly. Liam hands to him like he’d been burned, eyes following Harry’s fingers as he places it back in the flap inside Louis’ wallet.

‘’Please explain how is this possible. Louis is an orphan.’’ Liam repeats almost hysterically.

‘’His brother was taken away from him when Louis was fourteen. Leo was ten. They haven’t met since then.’’ Harry explains in a rush.

‘’What?’’ Liam looks like he’s about to explode from information overload.

‘’And I don’t know what to do about it, Li.’’ Harry admits. He then tells Liam everything, about Jerry, about Louis’ weird, untimely questions, about the pills, about Louis’ horrible nights. Liam’s eyes grow heavy with every intake of information he makes. Harry doesn’t stop; he needs to have a partner on this, needs somebody to share the weight of Louis’ burden with him.

‘’He hasn’t been sleeping well lately with all these nightmares and only now I’m seeing it.’’

‘’You think he’s like, relapsing?’’ Liam asks with a grimace. It’s obvious that he doesn’t know the exact meaning of the word.

‘’Maybe but I think…Liam, Google says that PTSD affects people sometime after trauma, that sometimes it takes years for symptoms to show so I think Louis’ traumatized.’’ There, he says it, he finally gets it out.

‘’Traum…what and what’s PT…whatever?’’

‘’Post traumatic stress disorder,’’ Harry recites. ‘’Liam, I think he’s not over losing Leo and of course, who would? Like, can you imagine if you were that young and someone took your sisters from you?’’

‘’That would hurt like hell.’’ Liam admits, eyes flashing.

‘’I also think something terrible must have happened for the authorities to take Leo away from him like that, something traumatic and from what I’ve read, I think it relates to some sort of abuse.’’ Liam’s eyes bulge at this and even Harry flinches at the thought, backtracks at once. ‘’But, I just don’t know. This is all Google and drawing my own conclusions and I’m afraid of believing them.’’

‘’Well, maybe this goes back to why he was put into adoption in the first place.’’ Liam says, trying to clue in. ‘’Do you remember what he said? About his father being in prison?’’

‘’Yeah, I remember.’’ Harry frowns. ‘’Do you think it’s related?’’

‘’Why not? Maybe his father did something terrible.’’ The word ‘abusive’ goes unsaid but it’s there between them, heavy like London rain. ‘’Something awful, that he was found incompetent to be a parent. Maybe the authorities took his kids away for negligence or something.’’

‘’Is this C.S.I. talk or _you_ talk?’’ Harry asks all too seriously.

‘’Look, think about it; his dad must be in prison for a reason, yeah?’’

‘’You know what?’’ Harry starts, eyes widening at the revelation in his head. ‘’I think you’re on to something here.’’

‘’I am?’’

‘’Yeah, I mean. Louis never wears T-shirts, or anything short-sleeved, Li. He never undresses in front of us.’’

‘’Okay.’’ Liam drawls.

‘’Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s because, oh God…’’ Harry feels a lump growing in his throat. ‘’Maybe…you don’t think his father was that big on discipline to hurt him, right? I mean, do you think that’s why Louis always covers himself up…?’’

‘’Jesus Christ.’’ Liam mutters, cluing in on what Harry is saying.

‘’Liam, help me. Tell me it can’t be true.’’ Harry demands desperately. He doesn’t want to believe it but it fits in with his thoughts, with Louis’ words, questions about parents. It all fits somehow.

‘’I’m sorry but I think we’re following a correct path here, Haz.’’ Liam says sadly.

‘’God.’’

They’re silent for a bit as Harry tries to swallow the bile in his throat. Louis covers his skin up because it’s possible that he carries signs of having been physically abused. Possibly by his father. Maybe his father was sent to prison for domestic violence. But then…

‘This doesn’t explain why Leo and Louis were separated.’’ He says abruptly. ‘’Like you said, they’re blood brothers.’’

‘’Yeah, you’re right.’’ Liam slumps back, like he’s meeting a dead end.

‘’Li, I don’t know what do.’’ Harry feels so lost, looking at his older band mate for guidance. ‘’I need you to help me.’’

‘’I don’t know. This is too much. I’m still trying to take it all in.’’

‘’I know.’’ Harry leaves him to it. After all, he needs Liam’s sensibility to make a proper decision about this.

‘’You think we should talk to him about it?’’ Liam asks.

‘’I don’t know, I think he needs someone to talk to.’’

‘’Yeah,’’

‘’Liam, those anxiety pills he’s taking, they’re prescribed ones.’’ Liam gasps. ‘’And whenever he sees a kid at our venues these days, it’s like pouring salt on his wounds. What I saw with Jerry…Liam, he can’t stand it. He didn’t want to let the kid go because he was afraid his father might hurt him.’’

‘’He loves kids, of course, he’d feel protective.’’

‘’Yes but kids like that remind him of Leo, so it’s like a good and a bad thing at the same time?’’

‘’More bad than good though, right?’’

‘’Lately, yes.’’

They become silent again, each with their own whirring thoughts. Harry feels lighter; admitting all this to Liam and emptier at the same time, for coming up short with a solution. It’s so hard keeping all of it in though, and feeling helpless with Liam is better than feeling helpless alone. Maybe if Louis would just talk to him, he won’t have to feel so empty.

‘’I cannot believe this.’’ Liam exhales. ‘’Like, this is Louis we’re talking about, he’s like one of the kindest, one of the best people I know and to think of all this happening to him…’’ Liam shakes his head. ‘’It feels like a dream, like this is just one big prank and you’ll tell me you’ve been joking this whole time.’’

‘’I wish.’’ Harry says sadly. ‘’I wish it wasn’t true.’’

‘’And yet, Harry.’’ Liam looks at him with a bit of brightness in his eyes. ‘’He let you in; somehow, regardless of all these secrets, he let you be his boyfriend. This goes both ways, you know. He trusts you.’’

‘’Yes, but I don’t know how to get him to open up to me. It was just one time and it was after I told him I loved him and…’’ Harry admits.

‘’See? He loves you; he put his walls down for you that night, Haz. You did it once, I’m sure you can coax him out of it.’’

‘’No.’’

‘’What do you mean no?’’

‘’I mean, he hasn’t said it.’’ Harry mutters, a bit ashamed.

‘’Hasn’t said what?’’

‘’I told him I love him. He hasn’t said it back.’’ Harry admits, eyes avoiding Liam’s.

‘’Wait, really? I thought…’’

‘’He’s my boyfriend. He knows that too but he hasn’t said it, yet at least. I don’t know; I can’t blame him for being too preoccupied with other more important matters so can we please focus on that?’’ Harry snaps.

‘’Okay, okay. I mean, yeah, the trauma and all that. But Harry,’’ Liam continues. ‘’I know he loves you. I’ve seen it. Just because he hasn’t said it doesn’t mean it’s not true.’’

‘’I know but I think he’s right. He can’t love me properly until he’s over this so how can I get him to trust me with his secrets? That’s what I’d like to know. God, I’m going crazy thinking too far ahead and I let him be because I can’t bloody think two feet in front of me when he’s hurting. Liam, I can’t force him.’’

‘’Then just be there for him, mate.’’ Liam says softly. ‘’Show him how much you trust him, how much you love him. If he wants to cry, let him. If he wants space, give it to him but ultimately, be there for him when he needs someone to turn to. He’ll look for you, Haz. I’m sure of this. At the end of the day, sometimes I notice that he’s all you see but you don’t notice how he looks at you the exact same way.’’

‘’Really?’’ Harry asks with big wide, trusting eyes.

‘’Look, at first I thought the whole keeping yourselves in check was just because of the fans and I know how important it is, to keep this part of yourselves a secret and all but now, after all that you’ve told me, I can see why he’d need time. But it doesn’t change the way he looks at you, mate.’’ Liam’s eyes gentle, big brown eyes so kind. ‘’He loves you. He doesn’t need to say it to show you, Harry. Actions speak better than words and all that.’’

Harry smiles involuntarily but he takes it all in and nods. Liam wouldn’t lie to him. He’s a Boy Scout type of guy. He would tell no lies and always speak the truth.

‘’You’re right.’’

‘’And you know Louis; he doesn’t like letting people down so when he sees how much of your heart you’re putting into this, he’ll yield. He doesn’t like disappointing you, Haz. I’m not saying take advantage of that. I’m saying it’s a thin line you can balance on. You know what I mean?’’

‘’Yeah, and I think he said something like that.’’ Harry says, blushing a bit.

‘’Well, go for it then. Just be there for him, as best as you can and I’ll help. I know playing football relaxes him.’’

‘’Okay, I’ll do that.’’ Harry says with a new found determination. ‘’He’s worth it.’’

‘’So worth it.’’ Liam agrees but then his smile falters. ‘’Fuck I still can’t believe it.’’

‘’I know.’’

‘’How long has it…Fourteen you said?’’

‘’Six years.’’ Harry says. He knows what Liam’s asking.

‘’Wow, that’s…’’ Liam shakes his head.

‘’Yeah,’’

‘’Poor guy.’’ Liam sympathizes.

‘’Li, I’m gonna go.’’ Harry says after a pause. ‘’I shouldn’t leave him alone in his room.’’

‘’Yeah, go. Just let me know if you need anything, I’ll be here.’’ Liam says as he stands up too. They hug and Harry mutters a heart-felt thank you before he leaves and heads for his and Louis’ room.

When he enters, the lights are off and Louis’ asleep. At least, he’s sleeping in a hotel room in a comfy bed, Harry thinks but this is the third night that Louis sleeps with an empty stomach and all Harry can do is slip into his own bed, lost in his thoughts.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this may seem like a filler chapter but its not. I just want to ease the pace a bit for the upcoming chapters. i hope that makes sense. anyways, enjoy

_''It isn't a crime to want_  
_A little space to breathe_  
_But you will be fine_  
_The sun again will shine on you_  
_Whatever you do_  
  
_Take your sweet, sweet time_  
_I will be here when you change your mind_  
_Take your sweet, sweet time_  
_I will be here for you baby_  
_Anytime''_

_Jesse McCartney_

 

-‘’Morning, beautiful’’ is the first thing Louis hears when he wakes up. His mind is befuddled and as he blinks and groans, he just turns and hides his face in the pillow. He hears a familiar chuckle.

‘’Babe, I know you’re up. It’s morning already. C’mon.’’

He peels one eye open and sees Harry, his large hand brushing his fringe back, peering down on him, all fresh-smelling and dressed.

‘’Hi,’’ he croaks out. He’s lying on his stomach and as he wakes up more, he realizes he’s clutching unto the bottle of pills Harry gave back to him last night and that the book he’d been reading is on the bed side table, faced down. Everything comes rushing back. Harry knows now, knows about the pills and no matter how hard he’s tried to think of a way to explain, he couldn’t and he fell asleep anxious and concerned. But now, Harry is looking at him like nothing’s wrong and that is just…weird.

‘’Hi, love.’’ Harry says gently, his hand still brushing his hair. ‘’You gonna get up?’’

Louis nods and Harry smiles.

‘’I’ll go order room service then. Go take a shower yeah?’’

Harry doesn’t wait for an answer, just leaves Louis to it. Louis keeps lying down for a minute, wondering what’s going on, why Harry is being nice to him but he comes up blank. In the end, he does get up and goes through the motion, guilt sinking in at how nice Harry is being to him. He’d been quite secretive and introverted the past couple of days, almost brushing him off and this type of treatment is wholly unexpected.

When he comes out of the shower, he makes sure that his prescription pills are back in his suitcase and hidden inside one of his socks before joining Harry in the living room.

 Harry doesn’t ask questions the way he had the past three days, just pulls out a chair and guides Louis to it then goes on and tells Louis about his morning. Louis is all reluctant at first but Harry loosens him up and soon, he goes from commenting here and there to laughing at all the right places, his chest weighing more with guilt but heart somehow feeling lighter.

 All day and Harry is still the same, all kind and loving, like Louis had done no wrong. And it’s a bit funny because now that Harry isn’t asking, he wants to talk. He wants to tell him about the pills, especially now that Harry’s found them. He wants to tell him that he’s not a junkie, that they’re prescribed to fight his anxiety attacks but he doesn’t know how to say that without delving into further details.

 He’d been conditioned to stay quiet at all times, because talking and divulging secrets is the wrong way to go. Therefore, he needs to be tactful with Harry, tell him without revealing too much. It’s sadly not so simple.

 

The next day, Harry wakes him up with compliments and a ready spread, full on English breakfast that just makes him flush and glow. It’s hard not to want to cuddle into him, show his appreciation for all his endeavors. It says something about how much he’d been distant and reclusive, how Harry had been starved for his affections so dearly that as soon as they get comfy on the bus and he places an arm around Harry’s waist, the boy snuggles into him immediately, like a cat just waiting to be petted. Harry remains glued to his side even after the show that night, goes directly for him when they get back on the tour bus, resting his head on Louis’ lap when Louis pulls out his book and silently reads.

At one point, while listening to Niall and Liam's banter, Harry tilts his head and kisses Louis’ thigh. Louis realizes he’s kissing his marks and it just makes him squirm with giddiness, hide his smile in the pages of his book.

Louis wishes he could just close the book, pull Harry unto his lap and talk, share every thought that has ever made him insecure because all Harry has been doing so far has been to treat him so kindly and yet, he can’t reciprocate, can’t speak to him, can’t give him what he wants.

Harry doesn’t seem like he minds, seems like he’d given up, accepted Louis silence or he’d become really good at not showing how much he wants it. Either way, it makes Louis feel so relieved and guilty at the same time.

 

During rehearsals for some award show the day after, Louis loses focus a bit and so they take a break. He remains standing by his mic-stand frowning, trying to recount his steps so he doesn’t repeat his mistake when the boys return. He doesn’t hear Harry’s approaching footsteps until the boy is right behind him, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, rubbing his arms up his sides.

‘’You’re perfect, babe; you did nothing wrong. Don’t be too upset about it, yeah?’’

‘’Yeah, okay,’’ Louis manages to say, a bit surprised by Harry’s sweet gesture. It’s making his cheeks flush and he hopes Harry cannot feel the heat radiating from the back of his neck.

‘’Good.’’ Harry pecks the back of his head briefly. Louis is not sure if he’s still breathing normally. ‘’Just also wanted to tell you that I love you with all my heart and nothing is going to change that,’’ he doesn’t give Louis a chance to stutter out a word before he’s walking away with a wink and a skip to his step.

 

So, they don’t talk about it. The bruise on Louis’ forehead turns purple and Louis hides it with his messy fringe so well that no one notices until an hour before the award show that night. It looks angry and swollen and when Lou styles his messy fringe back and sees it, she literally shrieks at him. She doesn't style his hair into a quiff like she'd intended, keeps it an unhinged mess and later that night, after their performance is all done and their stay at the award show is over, it gets covered up by a big, fat white plaster that annoys Louis to no ends, making him fuss constantly with his fringe to try and cover the whole size of it as best as possible.

 The boys demand answers and Harry swoops in and explains it off as Louis falling off his bunk during his sleep so the boys don’t bother him with over-bearing questions. Louis is so grateful but it doesn’t help how guilty he feels for having to lie to the boys over and over again, hiding things from them. Louis wears comfy sweatpants when he sits with them, has been for the past few days even during rehearsals so as to relieve the fresh marks on his thighs instead from his usual tight, colorful trousers and he literally hasn't given much thought to the bruise on his forehead until Lou freaked out about how bad it looked and now it's all covered up and it’s like, all is forgotten.

 Louis wants it to be forgotten so he clings to their busy schedule throughout the week that follows, uses music as an escape route. Harry says nothing but now that he is somehow allowed, he clings to Louis in return; closer and tighter, declining offers to after parties, choosing instead to cuddle with Louis after their shows and either watch crappy telly in the bus lounge or read with him in silence.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so once again, this may seem like a filler chapter but its not, just a lead up to the main event. massively happy for the great and wonderful otra tour moments. its sad that it has come to an end but what a journey it was. anyways, enjoy.

  _''I never wanted a Guardian Angel. I didn't ask for one. One was assigned to me.'' _

_ Mercedes McCambridge _

 

 

-They continue their ‘’Up All Night’’ tour though, just a handful of shows left, with a massive increase of fans expanding across the globe. Louis eventually gets back to his old-happy self and Harry wonders how much of it is a façade and how much of it is real.

They’ve taken over the U.S. with their sold out tour and the fans are just crazy for each and every one of them, crazy for Harry’s curls and charm, Niall’s accent and braces, Zayn’s quiff and art, Liam’s buff biceps and puppy eyes and Louis’ sense of humor and quick wit. Sometimes it seems to be getting out of hand and Harry has never been more grateful for their security team being constantly on the look-out for them, making sure they’ve got their safety handled and the paps under control.

However, after their show in New York, it doesn’t seem there was much control going on at all.

Its mayhem as soon as they’re done inside the venue and not only is the crowd that greets them filled with fans, there are at least two dozen reporters closing in on them like predators, with their mics ready and big cameras, snapping, snapping, snapping like its meal time.

Louis immediately switches to mama bear mode, as Harry would like to call it, and steps up front to shield them behind. It’s funny, actually hilarious, how he’s the shortest and yet, is standing there defiant, trying to protect them all. It makes a surge of affection hit Harry like no other and so he places both hands on Louis’ shoulders and walks as close as possible.

They all duck their heads as the flashes hit them as hard as the noises. Niall is by Louis’ right and Zayn to his left and Liam is behind Harry. They’ve got just enough space for security guards front and behind but their sides are wide-open. Zayn looks like he’s getting crushed and Niall’s turned pale, his claustrophobia hitting him bad. The two pick-up cars are at least 10 feet away and as they try to close the gap, the crowd just closes in more and more.

‘’Stay back, guys. The show’s over, stay back.’’ Louis hears Paul say. It’s getting harder to see the first car but that’s not what’s important. What’s important are the lads behind him and beside him. He looks at Zayn and though the Bradford lad seems pissed, he’s faring quite better than he expects. Niall however, seems to be pressing into his shoulder like he’s cowering from the crowd.

‘’It’s alright, Ni.’’ Louis says even though his voice is lost in the sea of people crushing them in. He searches for Niall’s hand in the little gap between them until he finds his wrist and holds on tight so he doesn’t get left behind. He puts his free hand on one of Harry’s, a reassuring perch on his shoulders, to make sure he’s close by and behind him. Harry squeezes his shoulder and ducks his face close to Louis’ neck.

It doesn’t seem like they’re moving at all but as soon as Louis sees one of the cars and sees the door pull open, he’s quick as he pulls back and pushes Harry in front of him as strong as he can with one hand between his shoulder blades without uttering a word of warning. Harry is surprised but there’s no time to pull back for Louis as Paul grabs his bicep and pulls him ahead. Louis pushes Liam right up behind Harry so that Alberto picks him up as well.

The momentum, the tightening of the crowd to their sides helps here as he pushes Zayn in front of him but filing in one line makes the crowds squeeze in even more.

Zayn, along with Harry and Liam gets pulled by Paul too and yet, before they know, they’ve been split in two.

Louis plants his feet solid so as to get Niall in front of him and is just about to get Niall behind Zayn when he feels a sharp tug and almost loses his balance.

‘’Niall!’’ he hears Zayn shout just as he immediately turns around. He finds Niall on the ground on all fours except for the hand tugging at him. He’s clutching at his knee when he tries to get up. Louis realizes that he’s tripped and that Niall looks like he’s about to cry. Louis is quick as he gets down and gets his hands under his armpits from behind and hauls him up, hands moving to his waist to push him up with leverage. Half-way up though, the crowd pushes in hard, cameras lowering to zoom in on him and suddenly, Louis’ head bumps into something really sharp. He falls on his knees, hard, letting go of his balance on accident and falling on his bum.

Niall turns around to aid him but the security picks Niall up by a firm grip of his waist, afraid that he might fall back and topple over Louis. With how the crowd is practically jostling them, it’s a likely possibility. The man –who turns out to be Phil, one of their closest security- is quick in pulling the Irish lad away and just as quickly, he pushes him away towards the car, despite Niall limping. He’s left Louis behind though, thinking Louis can get himself up right as Mark, their trainer, who’s standing by the car door, holds Niall with both hands on his shoulders, the boy unsteady on his feet and tries to push him into the car.

‘’No, wait. Louis!’’ Niall calls for him and Louis can’t stay on the ground clutching his head when his boys need him so he presses his palm on the ground, and tries to balance on it while his other hand clutches at his neck. It felt like snapping when he hit his head and that hurts like hell too.

The flashes are making him dizzy, the cameras zooming in on his face and the paps shouting silly questions at him and not one is willing to help him get on his feet, too busy snapping photos. Louis manages to ignore all that under the sweat breaking under his shirt when through a gap in the crowds, he sees Harry stumbling his way past Liam and out of the car, trying to get to him, reach for him.

Louis can see Phil coming back for him though so he gets up on wobbly legs and pushes through the crowd until he meets the security guy half-way.

He doesn’t know how Harry managed not to get stopped but as he gets pushed into the second car, he is greeted by the sight of Niall and Harry. The first car drives away with Zayn and Liam and finally, theirs follow, the noises dying down as the door closes and the driver rushes away.

Louis has no time to take a breath before he’s being hugged tight and fast, clutched into a familiar expanse of broad chest and soft cotton.

‘’Lou, are you alight? That was so scary, are you okay? I saw you fall, answer me.’’ It’s Harry, frantic and holding him so, so tight, it’s dizzying. Niall is by the window, looking worriedly at him. He pushes at Harry’s chest a bit to get some room to breathe. He clutches at Niall’s hand and tries to blink the dizziness away.

‘’I’m fine. Ni, you okay? How’s your knee?’’ he asks, leaning heavily on Harry.

‘’I’m good, Lou, thanks. Stupid paps, though.’’ Niall chuckles, trying to make light of the situation. He’s wearing jeans shorts, having changed before leaving the venue and his knee looks swollen. Louis knows it’s going to be blue tomorrow and since its Niall’s bad knee, he knows the boy is going to dip it in a lot of ice to numb the pain.

‘’Nothing a little ice can’t fix.’’ Niall says, as if reading his mind, patting his bruised knee gently.

Louis makes a sympathetic face but is too tired to fuss over his Irish friend. Instead he succumbs to Harry’s warmth and decides to lay his head on the boy’s lap, releasing Niall’s hand and clutching Harry’s.

‘’Babe, you okay?’’ Harry asks, his free hand massaging the expanse of Louis’ shoulder and side.

Louis hums but closes his eyes.

‘’You look a bit pale, Lou.’’ Harry says, worry in his tone.

‘’Yeah, just a bit dizzy. Too many cameras tonight.’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Harry agrees. He lets Louis turn his face into his thigh and they all delve in the silence, needing it after such an exhausting night.

 

-A couple minutes into the ride, Niall’s phone rings. He shows the Id caller to Harry before he picks up.

‘’Hey Li.’’ Niall answers. Harry listens for a while, looking at Niall as he let’s go of Louis’ loosening hand and snakes gentle fingers across Louis’ soft hair. It’s a bit wet with sweat but that’s normal. New York is too hot this time of year and they’re all in need of shower after their sweltering concert.

‘’Yeah, just my knee but I’m good. Louis was there for me, so.’’ There’s a bit more talking on the other line then Niall darts his eyes towards Louis’ resting figure. Something flashes in his baby blue orbs that makes Harry concerned at once.

‘’Yeah, Li. Listen, I’ll call you back.’’ Niall hangs up and Harry is now really alert.

‘’What’s going o…’’

‘’Harry, look at your hand.’’ Niall interrupts, his voice laced with dread as he swivels in his seat, his back to the window, eyes filled with something akin to fright.

Harry looks at the hand Niall’s looking at, fingers stilling in between Louis’ strands of hair. He doesn’t have to pull back to notice that the wetness is not from sweat. No, Louis’ head is…

‘’Oh God.’’

‘’He’s bleeding, why is he bleeding?’’ Niall’s voice gets erratic when Harry examines his hand fully and sees his whole palm, down to his wrists is coated in blood.

‘’Shit,’’ Harry curses. How is this possible? He saw Louis fall but how did he…

‘’Louis?’’ Niall moves and sits in the circle of Louis’ stomach from where he’s asleep, lying on his side. He nudges at Louis’ hip, trying to get him to wake up. That startles Harry into action. He nudges at Louis’ shoulder, trying to peer down at his face.

‘’Lou, wake up. Baby, wake up.’’ He says sternly, worriedly. Louis doesn’t open his eyes. He starts to panic as he picks Louis up a bit recklessly and pulls at his cheek and neck, trying not to use force but still.

‘’Babe?’’

‘’Lou, Goddamnt it, wake up.’’ Niall all but shouts, clutching at Louis’ shirt and this time, Louis’ hand, the one that was holding Harry’s a few minutes ago, just flaps like a boneless limb over the edge of the car seat.

‘’Louis!’’ Harry all but shouts, terrified tears suddenly bursting from his eyes. Niall is quick to act as he presses a button and the connecting window between them and the divider is pulled down.

‘’What’s going on back there?’’ Phill says.

‘’We need to get to a hospital, now!’’ Niall demands, voice shaking badly.

‘’What? Is this about your knee, are you…?’’

‘’Call Paul, Louis needs a doctor, his head is bleeding!’’ Harry shouts.

The car turns as soon as the wretched words leave Harry’s mouth and both lads return to trying to wake Louis up but to no avail.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, due to the demand for an update, here it is.

_“Man is not what he thinks he is, he is what he hides.”_

_Andre Malraux_

 

 

Harry carries Louis as they rush to the A&E, having refused vehemently to hand him over to Phil when the car stopped in front of the nearest hospital. He places him on the trolley when the male nurse that approached him asks him to. He wants to kiss Louis’ head or something but there are too many eyes watching and he doesn’t get the chance to anyway as Louis gets rushed away, tugging Harry’s heart along like a tin can tied to a string when he’s refused to go further.

Mark their trainer, who was with them along with Phil, asks that they be placed in a private room, explaining their fame situation to the nurse. Not long after, they’re escorted to a room that looks like a doctor’s office.

Phil explains to the nurse that comes to see them how he saw something hit Louis’ head, a bag of cameras maybe, just something black hanging from one of the paps’ shoulders but when he saw Louis get up, he didn’t think there was anything sharp or heavy that could induce such a serious head injury. Beside, Louis didn’t complain and Harry throws a proper fit at this even though he knows it’s not Phil’s fault.

Still, Louis is in the hospital and there’s dry blood dousing Harry’s palm and beige trousers and he feels sick at how shitty their security was tonight.

He refuses to sit down, choosing to pace the room instead. He almost runs to the door when he hears it open but its only Liam and Zayn with Paul and Alberto following behind.

‘’Is he okay? What happened?’’ Liam asks as soon as he reaches Harry and hugs him.

‘’I don’t know.’’ Harry pulls back, his voice wobbly. ‘’A bag of heavy cameras hit his head when he pulled Niall up back in the venue. I didn’t know his head was bleeding until Niall saw the blood and Louis didn’t say anything except that he was dizzy. Oh my God, he said he was dizzy and I...’’ Harry starts to freak out because he should’ve seen the signs, he should’ve…

‘’Hey, hey, calm down.’’ Zayn pulls him into an embrace and starts rubbing a hand up and down Harry’s back. ‘’It’s not your fault, alright? He’ll be fine. He’s tough. He’ll be alright, Haz. C’mon.’’

Harry tries to calm down and only does when Zayn sits him down and keeps his arms around him. But he starts feeling restless again when he sees the blood on his left thigh where Louis’ head lay and he gets up, starts pacing the room again. He cannot stand this waiting.

The boys’ eyes follow his movement back and forth till Niall ducks his head, getting too dizzy to keep following him at his erratic pace. Zayn keeps his eyes on the door and Liam looks at Mark, Phil, Alberto and Paul, trying to do damage control on their phones across the room. After a while, Paul steps out of the room, and Liam hopes he’ll come back with coffee for them, in case it will be a long night. After a while, a doctor enters the room.

Harry immediately marches forward till he comes to a standstill in front of the doctor. He is young looking, like really young, like he’s fresh to the job but obviously –hopefully, is what Harry means- with enough experience to handle the emergency room.

‘’How is he?’’ Harry asks as steadily as possible. He’s not sure he hears himself speak over the loud beating of his heart and the rush of blood in his veins.

‘’Well, first of all, don’t worry about your tour manager, he’s already with Mr. Tomlinson and I have already explained to him the situation.’’ He says when he notices Alberto reach for his phone. The man straightens up and listens to what the doctor has to say. ‘’It’s a standard concussion, split his head open, lost a fair amount of blood yes but nothing too worrisome. We’ve managed to stop the bleeding and given him stitches so I’d give him a day here for overnight observation and then just loads of rest. He’ll get headaches and feel a bit dizzy in the next couple of days so please keep an eye on him. The bandages can come off in a week and I suggest you let a professional take the stitches off for him. But till then, I insist; loads of rest.’’ The doctor, Dr. James as his name tag reads, stresses but there’s a hint of something vague and strange in the change of his tone, and it doesn’t give them any reprieve as they take in the news. ‘’Now, I’m sure you want to see him and he is awake, must stay awake overnight as is standard procedure for patients maintaining a concussion but I do have some questions to ask first. They’re not very important so perhaps only one of you would like to answer them for me and the rest of you can go and see…’’

‘’No, we go together. What’s going on?’’ Zayn interrupts with narrowed eyes. The doctor smiles kindly whereas Harry’s heart beats erratically. Somehow, he and Liam find each other’s faces and make eye-contact. He hopes this has nothing to do with the fading bruise on Louis’ forehead or the scratch marks across his forearms and thighs that Harry is sure are no longer prominent, having blended in with the old. He’s been watching Louis very closely since that night on the tour bus, making sure he’s sleeping well, albeit fitfully at times but nothing too drastic.

Liam doesn’t know anything about it of course but he does think this has to do with what Harry had told him during their talk, about Louis not taking his flu shot and not liking to show skin.

‘’Look, it’s alright.’’ They lose eye-contact and look at Dr. James. ‘’I know who you are and I’ve signed your non-disclosure agreement, so has the staff on this floor. I’m not going to interrogate you or anything.’’

‘’What exactly are you trying to say here?’’ Alberto intervenes.

‘’Well, first of all. The reason why I haven’t asked to see a parent is because, according to the lad, he’s past eighteen and emancipated from his parents. Is that true?’’

‘’Yes, that’s right and he lives with me. I’m his house mate and band mate, I guess.’’ Harry says, maintaining direct eye-contact, hoping his lying flies through. No one ought to know about the nature of his and Louis’ relationship, signed contract be damned. Moreover, the ‘’emancipated’’ part is not exactly a lie but it’s what modest! Management has been told. No one aside from Simon, the boys and Louis’ adoptive parents know that Louis was an orphan and since Louis barely knows Jay and Mark Tomlinson, the lie suffices. Louis is only grateful for their discretion, for playing up their role as the parents he had emancipated from for wanting to be an adult too fast but are still close and in good relationship with him but that’s about it. That’s what the public knows. Louis trusts his band mates more; they’re his family now.

‘’Oh I see.’’ Dr. James says, looking thoughtful. Harry frowns. ‘’And he has no contact with his parents whatsoever?’’

‘’No, none at all.’’ Harry says carefully.

‘’I mean, he’s in a good relationship with them,’’ Liam adds quickly. ‘’But he’s like, no longer their responsibility, is all.’’

‘’Very well then. That’s good.’’ Dr. James says, looking somewhat relieved. Zayn frowns in confusion. He looks at Niall with a look that’s all; _wasn’t that just an odd thing to say?_

‘’Is that all then?’’ Liam asks, glancing at Harry again. Apparently, he finds that last comment just as weird.

‘’Well, yes. I suppose so.’’ The doctor says, looking at them sadly. ‘’Just, take care of him, alright?’’ he says with a sigh and then he goes to the door and opens it. ‘’He’s upstairs in room 127. He’s been asking for you guys.’’

It’s a split second of confusing glances before they move, Alberto and the rest following behind. Harry is at the lead but then he feels his elbow being held and pushed back. He expects it to be Liam but the lad is right next to him.

‘’Whatever it is you two are hiding from us,’’ Harry turns and sees Liam’s elbow is being held too. He looks up and sees that Zayn’s the one gripping them, with Niall next to him. The Bradford lad’s looking at them with hurt in his eyes.

Harry should’ve have known; they’re closer than he thought, close enough to know when someone is hiding a secret, especially when it involves one of them directly. His and Liam’s glances did not go unnoticed.

‘’Whatever it is you’re not telling us,’’ Zayn continues quietly, hand firm on their elbows, tone indicating him and Niall, ‘’You’re going to spill and talk later, alright?’’

‘’Yes,’’ Harry sighs, knows he’s right and knows he has no choice. Liam nods, guilt blazing his eyes. Zayn lets go and lets them lead, eyes stern. He knows they owe him, knows the message was clear enough.

They reach the room and find Paul standing outside. He steps aside when he sees them, no need for words. Mark, Phil and Alberto don’t follow when Harry opens the door. He sees Louis sitting up, idly flipping through the channels on the telly in the corner, bored out of his mind.

‘’Don’t think you’re gonna find any football matches up there, love.’’ Harry croaks; a smile lighting up his face when Louis rolls his eyes and puts the remote away.

‘’C’mere you.’’ He says, opens his arms, gesturing Harry for a hug. Harry laughs wetly, and dives in, hugging Louis around the waist and burying his face into his neck.

‘’Sorry I worried you.’’ Louis says into his hair. Harry sniffles, and just hugs tighter.

‘’How’re you feeling, Lou?’’ Niall asks gently. Harry straightens up and notices that Louis’ in a hospital gown. His head is bandaged allover but what really catches his attention is the long-sleeved gray cardigan Louis’ wearing. Now that Harry thinks about it, the room temperature is quite chilly, like someone had raised the AC on purpose. The cardigan looks big on Louis and Harry is positive it’s not his. He wonders how Paul got it to him because now that he thinks about it, it looks big enough to be the man’s size. It looks downright gigantic on Louis, dwarfing him in.

‘’A bit dizzy, but that’s to be expected they said.’’ Louis says, holding Harry's hand close. Harry holds back with both hands.

‘’What’s with this? It’s sweltering outside.’’ Zayn asks, nodding at Louis’ cardigan, as observant as ever.

‘’Well it is a bit chilly in here so I asked Paul for it.’’ Louis answers.

‘’He wasn’t wearing one.’’ Zayn says, tone leaving no room for argument. Louis looks at him kindly.

‘’I asked him to get one for me. The blanket’s too thin for me to hide under from this chill and the AC remote is nowhere to be found. It was in the car, Z. It belongs to Alberto. Can’t really complain about the size, it’s doing the job.’’ Louis shrugs.

‘’Well, hey I have my hoodie in the car, the one I wear when we go to airports; I can get it for you. It’s more fitting and all.’’ Zayn offers. Louis shakes his head.

‘’Nah, you don’t have to go…’’

‘’I’m sure I can get Paul to do it.’’

‘’No need to send him out twice, mate…’’

‘’Fine, I’m sure Alberto or Mark can go fetch it.’’

‘’Z, people might notice them and who knows? Fans might start barging in or something,’’ Louis chuckles but Harry knows him well enough to know that he’s nervous. The hospital gown looks thin and a bit transparent so he obviously doesn’t want to undress in front of Zayn or any of them.

‘’I’m sure hospitals have top notch security, mate.’’ Zayn soldiers on and Harry feels like he has intent behind this.

‘’I really am fine with this one and really, there’s no need to test that. I’m good, I promise.’’ Louis assures him, hand a bit shaky in Harry’s. Harry squeezes his hand, about to jump in if Zayn doesn’t stop insisting.

‘’Oh, alright.’’ Zayn says, not convinced but not showing it either.

They talk until its past visitation hours -well, Niall, Zayn and Harry talked whereas Liam seemed quiet- and then Paul is herding them out. Harry says he’ll stay as one person is allowed anyway so the boys leave, bidding Louis to take it easy and soon, it’s just him and his boyfriend. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone. just want to point out that there will be some slight vagueness here wen it comes to louis' past, so pardon the confusion. anyhow, enjoy xoxo

_“Pain is a pesky part of being human, I've learned it feels like a stab wound to the heart, something I wish we could all do without, in our lives here. Pain is a sudden hurt that can't be escaped.''_

_C. JoyBell C._

 

 

-‘’The doctor knows something, doesn’t he?’’ Harry asks, after taking a seat and sitting in comfortable silence with Louis. He grazes a finger up Louis’ covered arm, looking at him but Louis keeps his eyes on the ceiling.

‘’Had to tell him something.’’ Louis sighs then snorts. ‘’Bloody wanker took my clothes off to check for any more injuries when I was passed out. Called it standard procedure or summat. Good thing he signed those management papers or the fans would start asking why I’m somehow self-harming myself when I’m not. Can’t believe he asked me that, asked me about my parents too. Gave me a card with the number of some therapist as well.’’ He says in a huff as he lets go of Harry’s hand and wipes down his face, looking tired and disheveled. On the other hand, Harry is a bit taken by surprise at the admission.

‘’You kinda are, even if you’re not aware you are.’’ Harry says carefully, recalling the faded scars on his thighs and forearms. He sandwiches Louis’ hand in both of his again like he’s in need of an anchor to keep those thoughts of Louis unaware of inflicting bodily harm upon himself at bay.

Half sitting back, with his hair all mussed up and sticking out of the bandages, hands so dainty, figure drowning in an over-sized cardigan, Louis looks vulnerable, like the wind could blow him off and take him away. Harry needs to hold on to him, keep him on solid grounds.

’’Yeah, I suppose so.’’ Louis muses. ‘’Scratching myself raw and drawing blood is weird, right?’’

‘’Lou, that’s not what I meant…’’

‘’No, I know.’’ Louis interrupts kindly. ‘’The pills help though, keep the anxiety bouts…shall we say, infrequent.’’

Harry swallows. He needs to tread carefully, ask the right questions. He also needs to keep Louis awake so no harm in talking, right?

‘’Why didn’t you tell me you’re taking them?’’ he asks.

‘’Didn’t want to worry you.’’ Louis says simply then looks at Harry, eyes honest and so, so blue. ‘’I’m not a junkie, love. Jay gets them filled in for me. She knows what they’re for.’’

‘’Jay?’’

‘’Yeah, she’s a nurse so she helps.’’

‘’Oh.’’

Harry’s brow is furrowed, trying to think of something to say that won’t make Louis go running.

‘’I thought you’re not close with them.’’ He says evenly

‘’No, I’m not but they’ve helped, still are helping, what with keeping up pretenses.’’ Louis sighs. ‘’I’m the one that didn’t want to stay with them. Doesn’t make them unkind.’’

‘’I see.’’

‘’Liam kept looking at me funny.’’ Louis points out after a while. He’s looking at Harry kindly, carefully though. ‘’Did you two talk about something?’’

‘’I’m just worried about you.’’ Harry blurts out. ‘’I haven’t said anything apart from my own conclusions and…’’ Harry swallows. He can’t lie. ‘’And Leo, I told him about Leo.’’

Louis looks at him for the longest time then sighs. Harry thinks he’s off the hook until Louis pulls his hand away, folding them both on his stomach.

‘’Can’t trust anyone, can I?’’ he says quietly, almost to himself.

‘’Lou, no.’’ Harry feels hurt, wounded by this change of events. By now, Liam is probably filling in Niall and Zayn and he hates this, hates that it’s his fault. ‘’I was worried. That night you were all over the place and you kept calling for Leo. I didn’t know what to do. I had to tell somebody.’’

‘’And betray my trust.’’ Louis concludes much to Harry’s dismay.

‘’Lou…’’

‘’You betrayed my trust, Harry. Don’t you dare deny that.’’ Louis interrupts sternly, eyes a blazing.

‘’Yes, I did, okay? I admit it and I am sorry. From the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry but I’m not sorry for loving you, for worrying about you, for seeking a friend’s guidance, _our_ friend. I didn’t know what to do, Lou.’’ His voice breaks, on the verge of tears. ‘’I needed to help you, you were hurting, baby. You were falling apart on me.’’

Louis looks away, bristled by Harry’s words. Harry is glad there’s no one in the room, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to speak freely.

‘’Please, I love you, I can’t stand seeing you hurt and I know you’ve been hurting for quite some time now and I want it to stop. I don’t want you to suffer anymore. I love you.’’

‘’You betrayed me, how is that love?’’ Louis looks at him, eyes raw with pain.

‘’I’m sorry; I didn’t know who to turn to, okay? God, I tell you, everything,’’ his voice turns earnest. ‘’But you in turn, won’t let me in. How is _that_ love?’’ Harry retorts back.

‘’I didn’t let you in at first because of this, because I knew you couldn’t handle it but then you assured me that you could. Remember when you said you could?’’ Louis’ quick tongue fires back and he’s right. By God, he’s right.

‘’Look, I know I messed up, I know that. I’m sorry. I’ll never do it again, I’m sorry. I just care about you so much. Please, you can’t fault me on this.’’

Louis looks away, unconvinced.

‘’Lou?’’ nothing. ‘’Lou, I love you. I did this because I care for you. I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes. I cannot think of anyone else for days at a time and when I see you, you’re all I see you know? Everything else just fades away, like you’re my every second thought? And I don’t care about the nightmares or the flashbacks or your past or like I do but no matter how big it is, it will never be big enough to force me to step back. I know it’s this big thing, this grand thing that you cannot contain sometimes, and all I want is to hold it up for you, with you. I care about you that much.’’

“I get night terrors;’’ Louis says abruptly. ‘’I have done since I was little. I’m fine now. I take the pills and I’m fine. But sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, still, it’s no big deal. ”

Harry stares at him when Louis turns away again, not exactly fuming but just upset. Harry understands; he knows he made a mistake and he’ll grovel on his knees if he has to, just to express how sorry he is.

Looking at Louis in the fluorescent light of the hospital room, he wonders if the Doncaster lad knows how beautiful he is. He certainly doesn’t act like it, what with the way he always chooses to stand in the background, making the boys laugh and look good, making sure they’re standing front and center and him behind. He’s always like that, always putting himself down.

Harry knows he’s a good person. At the end of the day, it’s his good heart that Harry fell for, not his looks and yet, Louis is undeniably…handsome, beautiful, with his high cheekbones and angular jawline. Harry likes how he weaves his hair, whether up and sharp-looking or down and fringy. He does prefer it when Louis would wear his caramel hair in a side-sweep and Harry more often than not, found himself wishing he could reach up and push it out of his deep cobalt blue eyes when his hair gets all messy from jumping around on stage. Looking at him, he notices that Louis’ upper lip and chin are covered in light stubble and Harry wonders at how he carries that look. It adds an air of rough masculinity to Louis’ features and Harry couldn’t help but…

“You’re looking at me all weird, Haz. Stop that.”

Harry blinks, unaware that Louis had looked back. He smiles, hopes he can charm his way back into Louis’ good graces.

“Nothing, you’re just quite fit. Have I ever told you that before?”

It’s a second almost too long but then take by surprise, Louis laughs, his cheeks flushing slightly pink.

‘’Oh is that right?’’

‘’Quite right.’’ Harry smiles, dimples out on full force.

‘’You cheeky little shithead.’’ Louis shakes his head fondly at him. Harry laughs. He knows that Louis had caught unto his scheming but he is unashamed at this point. Louis then breathes in and out, turning serious.

‘’I’m sorry I scared you off and made you talk to Liam. Didn’t mean to make you feel helpless.’’

‘’No, I wasn’t scared of you or of what you said, I was scared for you. There’s a difference.’’

But Louis is undeterred. ‘’Harry, I know I’m too much, so if you need a break from me because of that then…’’

Harry makes a soft sound in his throat and shakes his head furiously, dread coiling in his guts.

"No," he says, tears in his voice. "God, Lou, no. Nothing you tell me could make me want a break from you. Nothing, okay? God, I'm so in love with you, I can’t see two feet in front of me sometimes, you know? I'm just angry at whoever made you think you can’t talk about things that scare you, Louis. I'm worried about you. I miss you."

Louis' looking at him, lips slightly parted, and he looks terrified and Harry doesn't know what to say or how to help him or how to help himself. He hates feeling this way. "Haz…"

"Just tell me what’s going on so I’ll know how to help you. Stop keeping things from me."

‘’There’s so much, and it’s all fucked up.’’

‘’Start with why I can’t touch you.’’ Harry suggests. ‘’Why my boyfriend won’t let me do no more than kissing and cuddling? Why you didn’t take the flu shot, why you don’t change in the dressing room with us? Why you were freaking out when Zayn was asking you about the cardigan? There’s something there aside from modesty, Lou. I know that.’’

It takes Louis a long time to start talking and it’s not what Harry expects.

"You know, not all of us are confident about their physique, Haz. Not all of us are bloody Harry Styles, fit womanizer," he rolls his eyes like that makes it less serious and Harry breath catches in his throat because it’s not true, even if Louis is just teasing, he knows those rumors about him are false, just part of an image, a wrong one at that.

‘’Lou…’’

Louis slumps back, the façade not working. With the bandages around his head, he looks ill, shoulders hunching a bit.

"I look horrifying, Haz."

"What?" Harry asks, shocked that his voice still works, rough as it is.

"I look, you won’t like what you see, I’m not...I’m not smooth or soft. You won’t like what you touch; I’ll scare you away from me. I know, okay? I can’t have people looking at me with pity or sympathy or shit like that. And I want you to touch me. I know you want to as well but you can’t. You won’t help how you react but it’s cool, though, I understand. It’s not like you’ll be able to help yourself." he says in a small voice. He won't meet Harry's eyes for more than a few seconds.

‘’I won’t believe that until I see it for myself.’’ Harry says, determined.

"Haz..." Louis pleads.

‘’No, I want to see. I’ll prove it to you, no matter what, that you’re still beautiful. I saw your scratch marks, Lou.’’ He adds softly. ‘’I washed the blood away from your forearms and thighs and I’m still here, I still love you. I won’t ever be ashamed of you.’’

Louis looks at him for a long time before he takes a deep breathe. He then sits up, pulling away from the pillows, hunching a bit. He takes off the cardigan and sets it aside. Harry doesn’t get to look at his arms because Louis then reaches back with one hand and pulls at the chords to loosen his hospital gown. He then holds the neck of the collar and pulls, the gown sliding off to reveal his back. He looks at Harry from the corner of his eyes, telling him what to do in silence.

Harry swallows and stands, trying not to lose control. He moves closer and looks at Louis’ back. His voice gets stuck.

He’s right, he’s not soft.

Though they look somewhat faded and most probably years old, they are still quite there, fierce and ever present in their muteness. The uneven marks of different shapes and sizes scattered all over his back and wide spread as they are, look a lot. The first thing he notices is the small and circular ones. They’re nearly black, some huddled together between his shoulder blades, others spread across both shoulders but most of them are collected on the juts of his spine from up to down, pooling at the small of his back. Then he notices the scar tissues like twisted metal across Louis’ back, some jagged, almost like faded crisped skin and oddly shaped, like long, thin puncture wounds. What’s underneath it all, are the many bright white lines on his tan skin, spread out over his entire back crossing over each other and just. Jesus Christ.

"Harry?" Louis asks, lifting his head to look at Harry over his shoulder.

"Lou," Harry says weakly as he steps back, feeling mutely horrified. ‘’Please don’t tell me those are cigarette burns…’’

Louis swallows, looking at something behind Harry’s shoulder. He nods.

‘’And whip marks.’’ He mutters. ‘’Got most from broken beer bottles though. Shards of glass can be hard to pick off so.’’

Harry feels like choking, feels bile rise up his throat. "Who did this?"

"Doesn’t matter, it’s over. I’m not being hurt anymore," Louis says, expressionless. "Just, you know. Shit happens, yeah?"

Harry is just looking at him, trying to blink away what he saw.

‘’Disgusting right?’’ Louis says with a chuckle but his blank façade breaks. He looks so scared.

‘’No, no, what the hell, Lou?’’ Harry rasps. ‘’Someone hurt you this much and you thought I’d be disgusted by you? No, I’m disgusted by them.’’ Harry says angrily, voice loud, emotions getting volatile. ‘’Who did this, Louis?’’ he demands, seeing red. ‘’I’ll kill them, I’ll kill all of them. Who fucking did this? Tell me!’’

And shit. He is not a violent person. Any fan of theirs can attest to that but right now, he feels like ripping throats out or something, blood boiling with rage. No one is allowed to hurt Louis, no one. It should be a law. He wants to declare it a law, shit he wants to start a hound hunt and have beastly dogs barking with madness, demanding justice.

‘’C’mere.’’ Louis says desperately, pulling at Harry’s shirt and attaching their lips. Harry reciprocates, would never turn down a kiss from Louis. He pulls at him, hugs him around the waist until Louis’ legs are dangling off the bed. He steps in between them, kissing back harder, holding tighter. Louis’ hospital gown separates Louis’ chest from him but his back is still exposed. His big hands span them, palms touching Louis’ skin directly for the first time, touching the jagged marks and bumpy lines.

Somehow, the way that Louis shudders, gasps in Harry’s mouth then tries to pull away, makes the calling of blood go quiet and focus on Louis’ needs. Harry doesn’t let Louis pull away from him, but he moves his palms down to Louis’ hips so that he’s not touching Louis’ scars. He takes his chance though and dips his tongue in Louis’ open mouth, swallowing him whole, pulling Louis back to him, trying to assure him with words he cannot say.

Louis gasps again but this time, he holds Harry around the neck instead of pulling away, like he needs this distraction that Harry is more than willing to give. Harry explores his mouth with his tongue and his hipbones with the tip of his thumbs and it’s such a contrast from touching marred skin that his blood boil renews, wanting to tear the limbs of whoever hurt this boy, his boy.

‘’I’ll hurt them,’’ he gasps as he pulls back in need of air only to dive right back, then goes to spread kisses allover Louis’ face. ‘’I’ll hurt anyone who touched you. Give me a name and I’ll hurt them.’’ He says to the corner of Louis’ mouth before he dips in for more kisses. ‘’You’re lovely, you’re so beautiful. I love you so much. They had no right. I love you so much.’’ He doesn’t give a chance for Louis so say anything, goes to kiss his lips, his jaw, his chin, his neck then back to his lips when Louis chuckles, unsteady.

‘’Harry, I’m getting dizzy. Pull back, stud.’’

Harry immediately does, holding Louis by the waist, as Louis ducks his head and rests his cheek on Harry’s shoulder.

‘’Sorry,’’ Louis says breathlessly. ‘’I was enjoying that though.’’

Harry laughs but there are tears in his eyes so it sounds choked. He fists the opening hem of the hospital gown and hugs Louis around the shoulders with it so that he isn’t touching Louis’ skin directly but still pressing close. Louis seems grateful for it in the way he burrows into Harry, seeking his warmth.

Harry rests his cheek on Louis’ head gently. Louis is so small in his arms; it’s easy to wrap him whole.

‘’I’m sorry you got hurt. But I don’t want you to feel ashamed or insecure around me because of it. I love you regardless. You can trust me on that. I can take it.’’

‘’You sure about that?’’ Louis tilts his head up and looks at him from underneath his lashes. Harry feels guilty.

‘’It was a one-time thing, I promise. And besides look, I’m not running to Liam am I? I’m here, babe.’’ Harry says earnestly, holding his wrists at the small of Louis’ back.

‘’That you are.’’ Louis smiles and Harry cannot help but dip down and kiss him on the nose.

‘’I love you.’’

‘’I know.’’

‘’Can I ask you something?’’ Harry says after a deep breathe. He feels more confident, holding Louis close.

‘’Sure.’’

‘’Why don’t you like celebrating your birthday? And why do you always have to go back to London every…?’’

‘’I lost Leo on Christmas Eve.’’ Louis interrupts, eyes clear before he ducks under Harry’s chin. ‘’So it hardly counts as a day to rejoice or celebrate, you know? It’s not right.’’

He lets go of the fact that Louis didn’t answer his last question. He knows he’s demanding enough as it is and having Louis tell him anything at all is a small victory he will make sure to treasure. Not to mention that there are more pressing concerns in mind. Like when he thinks of what Louis just said, he cannot help but be overcome with a sense of clarity and sorrow.

"You were fourteen," is all that Harry can think of to say.

"I can still feel him, you know," Louis goes on like Harry hasn't spoken. "I never wanted to talk to you about him because it’s not fair to you, that all I think of is him sometimes and then you tell me that all you think of is me and it’s not fair to you. It’s not. I…’’ he looks up at Harry through blurry blue eyes, looking so helpless. ‘’I care about you, Harry but please don’t make me choose."

Harry shakes his head above him and shuts his eyes tight. He won’t ever make Louis choose, like who does that?

He doesn’t want Louis to feel guilty towards him and it’s only now that he realizes the truth. Louis never wanted to hide things from Harry; he just didn’t think it was fair to him, to have a boyfriend constantly thinking about the past. Harry had also scared him away with his love, like Louis couldn’t compare to the pedestal he’d set him on and that his issues were baggage that stood in the way.

God, he made Louis feel like he had to choose between him and Leo and even though he will always choose Louis, he knows that Louis cannot afford the exact same luxury of choice.

Harry wishes he could climb into Louis’ heart and warm him up from the inside out, make him never have to think of having to choose because Harry will always be there regardless. He wants to take Louis' hand and never let him go.

‘’You don’t have to choose between us, darling. Leo’s family, I understand and I’ll still be here. I can choose, but you don’t have to, okay? I can choose enough for the both of us. I need to put you first because I know you won’t. And that’s okay.’’

‘’It is?’’ Louis looks up at him.

‘’It is. It’s perfectly fine. You won’t make me choose between you and Gemma right? And besides, it doesn’t work that way.’’

‘’No, Gemma is around. Leo isn’t. I don’t get to choose him over anyone anymore.’’ Louis’ eyes well up.

‘’Doesn’t matter. Family is still family, Lou. C’mere.’’ He embraces Louis, hugs him close, kisses the crown of his bandaged head gently.

‘’You’re so kind. You cut me so much slack.’’

‘’You’re worth it.’’

They’re silent for a bit and then Harry’s curiosity spikes again.

"Lou, did…did the people or person who hurt you…did he hurt Leo too? Is that why you got put in an orphanage?"

Louis blinks, lips parting and eyes going wide. "What?"

Harry pulls back, arms still around Louis, attached at the small of his back, watching Louis anxiously as the boy pulls back too, dainty hands on Harry’s shoulders.

"You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, like you’ve told me enough for tonight. I understand."

‘’Haz," Louis says miserably after a moment of just staring. He scrubs his hand over his eyes and just looks devastated. "I'd been trying so hard to keep all of this from you and yet you’re making me want to tell you everything, more than I’ve ever wanted to tell anyone before. How are you doing this? How are you still here and not horrified?’’

Harry's mind is spinning, his heart aching.

‘’Because I love you.’’ He says like it’s an obvious thing.

‘’You keep saying that.’’ Louis whines.

‘’It’s true. I love you. I’ll say it all the time if you want.’’

"You make me want to give you the world, you know?" Louis says, his voice very soft now. "I just, you’re so wonderful, all the time. You're lovely, you’re quirky in all the right ways and I’m constantly fond of you and sometimes I feel like this is all a dream that’s about to end."

"Do you want it to end? Cause I don’t." Harry says, shocked that his voice is still working.

‘’No, babe, it’s not…’’ he pauses, frustrated. ‘’I have horror stories, Haz.’’ Louis finally says and Harry knows he’s trying to scare him off, make him go away because Louis is afraid Harry will bail on him later and that it’s easy if he’s the one who pushes him away rather than wait around for Harry to leave him. He won’t.

“Okay.” He whispers. “Well, I don’t scare easy, Tomlinson. I want to know.”

“I…I want you to know.” Louis nearly whispers, and he absentmindedly wonders how he got here. “I just don’t know how you’ll react. And I don’t know if it’ll change things. Fuck, of course it’ll change things and I don’t want it to. I want to keep you, thank you very much.’’

Harry shakes his head because Louis wants to keep him just as much as Harry does. Liam’s right; Louis loves him.

“I don’t think it’ll change things, love or that it would matter anyways. I’m already knee deep into this,” is what he decides to say.

 

Louis looks at him like he’s begging to be saved. He is tired of being alone in his own head, tired of keeping Harry at bay when the boy is sometimes the only one that can pull him to shore. Harry seems to sense his terror as he presses a kiss to his forehead and Louis feels his walls crumble a little. He pulls back, but keeps Harry close.

‘’Haz…’’

‘’Tell me.’’ He breathes. Louis swallows unsteadily. He can say no, he knows he can. He knows Harry won’t force him. He spills anyways.

He isn’t even aware of how vague his words are when he gives Harry snippets of his past, like he knows deep down, just knows that Harry will really run out that door if he is given details of what exactly he’d been through.

‘’My father hurt me and I took it so that Leo won’t get hurt. But I cried a lot and he heard and there were days, they were the worst days because Leo got hurt in those days too, because I couldn’t be quiet, because…’’ he chokes on his breath, a shiver of fear wracking him. The anxiety pills he took before the show have definitely worn off now and he holds his head like he’s afraid it will tumble and fall from the weight. Harry pulls him into his chest, familiar warmth overwhelming his senses. He strokes the back of Louis’ head in a way that should be calming but the palm of his other hand is on his marred back and though separated by a thin cloth, its working as a reminder now and Louis pulls his wrists to his lap to stop him before looking up at Harry.

“You have to promise not to tell Liam, you have to promise not to be scared by this.” Louis blurts, forcing down the sobs that promise to come up.

‘’Lou, we clued in, alright?’’ Harry says. ‘’What you said, about your dad being in prison, we wracked our brains and we came to the conclusion that your father must’ve done something traumatic for the authorities to take you and Leo away from him. What I don’t understand is why they separated you and your brother apart?’’

‘’You don’t understand. You got some parts right, they sent him away because of what he did but you don’t understand. I can’t tell you, he hurt me so bad, Harry. I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to. I don’t want to.’’ Louis now is full on sobbing.

He thought he could do this, he thought he could go all the way but it’s hard. He can’t; so much has happened, too much and it’s too big, like a massive Edgar Allan Poe pendulum swinging back and forth in his mind and he’s too weak to stop it from moving. He wants Harry to know though, wants Harry to help him stop it but Harry is not enough.

‘’Shh, baby, shh, it’s okay. That’s enough; you don’t have to say any more. I love you. Shh.’’ Harry comforts, holding him to his chest. God he’s incredible and caring and currently being so amazing about his breakdown, about all his breakdowns and Louis sees it now; sees that Harry has been handling all his issues like a champ and running to Liam in a moment of weakness can’t be his fault.

‘’God, my head hurts.’’ Louis groans, feeling a spike of a headache.

‘’I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to push you like this.’’ Harry apologizes. Louis shakes his head and he winces. He really shouldn’t move his head too much.

‘’Call the nurse for me, will you?’’ he pulls back and lies down, clutching at his head. Harry, God bless him, ties the hospital gown back behind and throws the cardigan over him before he rushes out of the room. Louis puts the cardigan back on, keeping his eyes closed while doing so, the florescent light in the room too intense.

Harry is back just as quick. The nurse takes one look at Louis then tells him to sit up. She pulls a couple of pills from a drawer and hands them to Louis with a bottle of water.

‘’No more stress talk, alright?’’ she tells them both sternly before looking at Louis. ‘’You need to relax. Stay awake but no more talking, is that clear?’’

They obey. Louis cannot afford a migraine and Harry is done asking questions.

 

Later, when they’re done watching a crappy movie on the telly, Harry urging Louis to open his eyes and stay up every once in a while, he shrugs off his hoodie and takes off his shoes. He climbs unto Louis’ bed and pulls him close, letting Louis rest his head on his chest.

‘’Love you.’’ He mutters before looking back at the telly. Louis stifles a smile and gets comfy. They’re in for a long night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just want to recommend some fics that i have read recently which i found quite lovely, i wont be surprised if some of you have read them already, if not, do check them out wen you can;  
> 1- In vogue by otpwhatever  
> 2- anathema by sleepylouis  
> 3- Dream Awake by protagonist_m  
> also, i read back on my old favs and one of them was ''smaller than me'' by checkthemargin which was quite an inspiring read. anyways, that new adele song? lovin it. most importantly though, One Direction's album is coming out in less than a week. go pre-order the album please or buy the physical one when it comes out. lets make our lads proud!!!!! anyways, till next time, bye xoxo


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not long till the album release. am buzzing hahahaha. anyways, please stream the boys' singles ''perfect'' and ''drag me down'' on spotify, they need this and we need this so please help spread their singles out there. anyways, here's the update. enjoy!!!

_“Terror made me cruel . . .”_  
_― Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights_

 

 

-Harry is a bit groggy when he wakes up, groaning. He must have moved sometime in the night because when he peels one eye open, he notices he has an arm thrown over Louis’ waist and that he's nosing Louis’ shoulder. When he looks up, he notices that Louis is asleep. He’s about to wake him up when someone touches his wrist. It’s Zayn.

‘’Nurse said he passed, said he can sleep now.’’ He says quietly. Harry nods then stifles a yawn, cracks his muscles. He gets up slowly, making sure he doesn’t jostle Louis. He notices its mid-morning already and that Liam and Niall are in the room as well, sitting on chairs by Louis’ bed, eating muffins from a brown paper bag and drinking from Starbucks Styrofoam cups. They mutter their good mornings before they look back at the telly, playing some American sitcom in low volume. Zayn hands him a bag and a cup as well.

 ‘’We just arrived half an hour ago. I’m sure it’s still warm.’ Zayn says. Harry nods and takes a sip.

They’re quiet for a while, Louis’ breathing even and quiet. When Harry is done with his coffee and his two blueberry muffins, he puts his trash on the nearby table and gets out of the bed. He goes to the connecting bathroom, relieves himself and washes up his hands then his face. He looks tired, he notices as he looks at the mirror, then his shoulders slump when he remembers what Louis had said last night.

God, it’s unbearable just thinking about it and he wishes he could re-write the past, pull Louis out of the hell he was in and bring him straightforward into the future where adoring fans love him and shower him with affection. He shakes his head and steps out. The telly is off and suddenly three pairs of eyes are looking at him, one guilty and two knowing.

‘’I had to tell them.’’ Liam says, breaking the silence. Harry sighs but nods. He expected this but he honestly doesn’t know what to say.

‘’How could you keep this from us?’’ Zayn asks quietly, accusation in his voice. His posture is calm though but his eyes are fierce. Sitting across from Liam and Niall, on the opposite side of the bed, he looks harmless but ready to pounce.

‘’It wasn’t my secret to tell.’’ Harry hedges.

‘’But you told Liam.’’ Niall states and Harry is washed with guilt.

‘’That was a mistake, okay?’’ Harry says. ‘’Louis barely forgave me last night. He figured out you know.’’ He tells Liam as an answer to his confused expression. ‘’And it took me everything to get back into his good graces.’’

‘’But you told Liam regardless.’’ Zayn says, leaving no room for negotiations.

‘’Look, I was scared, alright? How could I not be? Do you understand the gravity of what he had told me? I couldn’t just _not_ help him. I needed advice.’’

‘’We’re _brothers_.’’ Zayn says fiercely, standing up now. ‘’And you kept something this big from us. How’s that for something grave?’’

‘’Look, I don’t need to hear this...’’ Harry says, tired.

‘’Fuck you, you’re hearing it whether you like it or not.’’ Zayn says sternly. ‘’He may be your boyfriend now but he is still our brother so when he suffers, we suffer and you took that privilege from us the moment you deemed us unworthy to carry this burden with you.’’

‘’God, you are such a drama queen.’’ Harry starts. Niall and Liam sit back and watch as this face-off or whatever it’s called. It’s actually, quite surprisingly, not that far from the norm.

 Back in the x-factor days, Liam and Louis were the ones who used to go up against each other a lot; too much banter from Louis’ part, too much seriousness from Liam but it was all friendly and playful. But Harry and Zayn, well, that was something else because they never fought over _something_ , like rehearsal times or song choices, no they fought over _someone_ and that someone was currently lying on a hospital bed.

Louis’ best friend has always been Harry but Zayn is a close second. When Harry wasn’t up to getting mischievous after midnight, Zayn was Louis’ partner in crime. When Harry wasn’t into a night out in town, wreaking havoc, Zayn was Louis’ wingman. When Louis wanted to prank Harry, Zayn was his go-to guy. In time, it was only normal for Zayn to feel like he had the exact same privileges, _rights_ , to Louis, and so, he and Harry butted heads a lot, fighting over him. It was never really serious. Mostly, Louis would even be present during this kind of thing and they loved watching him shy away from the attention- if only he knew that Zayn and Harry fought over him in order to try and get him to preen- but it was never this serious before.

Zayn never demands too much because despite his banter with Harry, he knows his place. He knows that Louis has got a lot of firsts; he puts the band and their music first, he puts the boys’ well-being first, and he will always, always put Harry first. Zayn knows this so he knows he’ll never ask for Louis’s time unless necessary and when he and Louis are both up for it. It’s just fun sometimes, seeing Harry jealous and mostly, he just likes to see Harry sweat and work for it.

Harry on the other hand, sees it as being challenged, like his place is always threatened by Zayn and that his importance is being undermined, as childish and preposterous it is. He banters along and does his best to speak in casual tones but in truth, if he and Zayn weren’t close friend, if they didn’t actually respect each other and loved each other like brothers, he’d tear his hair off for ever thinking Louis was even partially his. It’s stupid, irrational to feel the way he does, but it makes him almost mad thinking that someone other than himself had a hold over Louis, even if it was just Zayn.

‘’You watch your mouth, Styles!’’ Zayn threatens.

‘’Or what, Malik?’’ Harry retaliates.

‘’Stop it.’’

They all whip their heads like puppets at the sound of his voice, Louis’ tired voice as he stirs awake, a painful expression on his face as he clutches his bandaged head. Harry reaches for him but Zayn beats him to it.

‘’Hey, don’t get up.’’ Zayn says, pressing back Louis’ shoulders so he can remain lying down. Louis goes willingly and Harry’s blood boils.

‘’Here let me help you.’’ He gets his arm around Louis’ shoulder and helps him get up so he can eat his breakfast but Zayn pushes back.

‘’He needs to lie down and take it easy.’’ Zayn presses back, glaring at Harry.

‘’He needs to sit up and eat.’’ Harry glares back. Both of them now have their arms around Louis, unaware that they’re actually physically fighting over him and Louis’ had enough.

‘’Can you please both back off?!! Now!!’’ he shouts, pushing at both their chests to give him space and his loud voice startles them both back in surprise, leaving Louis to fall back on the bed. He groans but sits back, glaring at Zayn and Harry when they take a step closer. ‘’Don’t you even dare!’’

They stand still then as Louis presses the button that moves the bed and helps him sit up. He closes his eyes for a second and breathes in.

When he opens his eyes, all the boys are standing looking at him; Liam, and Harry on one side and Zayn on the other, Niall at the foot of the bed. Looking at their expressions, Louis curses.

‘’You all know, don’t you?’’ he says, particularly to Niall and Zayn.

‘’Yes,’’ Zayn says, pity dripping from his voice. Louis clenches his jaws. He can already feel an incoming headache.

‘’I don’t want to talk about it.’’ He says, voice hard.

‘’Lou…’’ Zayn starts.

‘’I said I don’t want to talk about it.’’ Louis snaps and takes one good look at him before he regrets it. ‘’Stop looking at me like that.’’

‘’Like what?’’ Zayn says, trying to school his expression.

‘’Like you fucking pity me, alright? I don’t want it and I don’t need it so just stop it.’’ Louis says, voice all steel.

Zayn nods but his eyes betray him and Louis wants to cry. His headache is exploding now and he clutches at his head.

‘’Lou, hey, just relax, alright?’’ Harry says, approaching him now, hands not touching but half-way in the air, wanting to soothe, to comfort. Louis looks at him, needing him, but right now, he’s feeling so betrayed.

‘’Can I please be alone for a while? I won’t get any better with you guys here, even you, I’m sorry.’’ Harry looks hurt but he nods as his arms return to his sides.

‘’Well, the nurse said you’re getting discharged at noon.’’ Liam steps up and says. ‘’We can come back then if you’d like.’’

Louis nods but says nothing. He just lies down on his side and closes his eyes.

‘’There’s food for you.’’ Niall says, voice subdued and Louis hates it, hates how they’re being careful with him now. He wants them to leave before he starts crying out of shame.

Harry senses his discomfort and starts ushering the boys out.

‘’Let’s go then. We’ll be back, Lou.’’ He says. Louis makes a non-committal noise of approval but before Harry leaves he whispers to him and Louis doesn’t need to open his eyes to know that Harry is bending over him, breath hitting his cheekbone.

‘’I love you and I’m so sorry.’’

Louis just burrows deeper into his blankets.

As soon as the door clicks, the floodgates open.

 

The boys don’t go far since their security won’t let them. They do try to sneak into the hospital cafeteria but Liam points out that there might be fans so they back off and eventually, they just decide to remain outside Louis’ room, in plain sight for their security, who was giving them their space. There’s a bench big enough for the four of them at the end of the hallway, two doors away from Louis’ room so they huddle in and sit, Harry and Zayn on opposite ends, brooding and fuming with Liam and Niall acting buffer in between.

‘’Well, this is interesting.’’ Liam says, trying to break the silence, but his cheerful voice is forced and they know it.

‘’Drop the bloody act, Li.’’ Harry scoffs, feeling tired all over again. He wants to be with Louis; God knows how he’s feeling right now.

‘’Well, what do you propose we do? We can’t just sit here and stare at people, you know. Its two hours before Louis’ discharge time. Might as well talk.’’ Liam huffs.

‘’I can’t believe it’s been six years.’’ Niall says quietly. For someone so boisterous, all laughs and fun, he’d been quiet and solemn all morning which makes them all just as solemn when they realize what he’d just said.

‘’I mean, how do you live with something like that, you know?’’

The question stays up there, hung like a helium balloon in the corner of the hallway, unable to float away and escape.

Harry feels an ache in his chest, the familiar one he feels when he thinks of Louis suffering, and he doesn’t know if it’s a pain out of love or out of pity.

‘’He’s quite strong, Louis is.’’ Zayn comments and Harry’s anger is back.

‘’Like you would know.’’ He mutters, voice not at all hushed.

‘’What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’’ Zayn retaliates, anger spiking too. Harry fully turns to him now, looking at him two heads over. Liam and Niall sit back like they know what’s coming.

‘’It means you should stop assuming you know everything about him because you don’t. None of us do, including me and I am ashamed of myself for thinking he’s been strong enough all this time not to need me. So don’t you dare make that same mistake.’’

‘’Oh trust me, I won’t.’’ Zayn says bitterly. Harry stands up. He’s had it.

‘’What the fuck do you want me from me, huh? What exactly do you want me to say? I’m sorry? Forgive me for keeping this from you? Because I am not sorry for not saying anything about it to you, you hear me? I don’t have enough room in my fucking head to feel guilty for you because I am _shredded_ up, right fucking here,’’ he pokes harshly at his chest as his voice wavers. ‘’and I can barely function enough as it is, alright? He didn’t tell me some dirty little secret, Zayn, some silly story like the ones we used to share in the Bungalow or in the bunk beds in the x-factor house, no, he told me a fucking horror story and worse, it’s a horror our Louis, _my_ Louis actually lived and I got scared and I ran to the first person I could think of so screw me that it wasn't you or Niall, alright? Just…fuck you. I’m sorry, alright? Fuck.’’ His voice cracks and he can’t take it, so he turns his back to them and tries to breathe normally again, surprised that he’s suddenly panting.

 Knowing how much he’d fucked up, is horrible. The looks of pity on their faces, he put it there for Louis to see and it’s overwhelming and he doesn’t want to see it, can’t endure it.

 ‘’I’m sorry too.’’ Zayn says quietly after the long, awkward silence. Harry turns back and looks at him but Zayn is looking anywhere but him. ‘’I guess, I just freaked out, you know? Can’t blame me for caring, though, you know that.’’

Harry knows; despite his anger and their previous arguments, he knows that Zayn is nothing if not simply caring and protective of Louis, just like him. He nods but Zayn isn’t looking. ‘’I know.’’

 Zayn finally looks at him and then he gets up, saunters over to Harry and hugs him. Harry is surprised at first but then melts into it like he didn’t think he needed it until he’s right there, standing in the middle of a hospital hallway, wondering how he got to have good friends to fall back on in times like these.

‘’He’ll be okay.’’ Zayn whispers to him. Harry nods and steps back. He and Zayn smile at each other apologetically before Harry looks at Niall. ‘’C’mere you.’’

Niall chuckles but he gets up and gives Harry a hug too.

‘’Forgive me?’’ Harry whispers to his neck.

‘’Goes without saying, mate.’’ Niall says simply. He pulls back and smiles at Harry.

‘’Well, since you’re all standing, I might as well.’’ Liam says grandly and stands up next to Niall. They all laugh, feeling much lighter before they sober up.

‘’What are we going to do now?’’ Niall asks.

‘’Continue with the tour, I guess, not much more places we have to go to until…’’ Liam starts.

‘’Yeah, I know that but I’m talking about Lou.’’ Niall interrupts. ‘’Like, do we talk to him, have a band meeting…?’’

‘’No, we’re not going to gang up on him, he’ll freak out and sorry, but it’s bad enough that you all know now, he’s probably going to have a hard time trusting us again.’’ Harry says sadly.

‘’Harry, we’re not going to embarrass him.’’ Zayn puts in. ‘’But we need him to talk to us about this.’’

‘’No, I refuse that. Look,’’ Harry starts when Zayn huffs. ‘’As horrifying as it is, it’s ultimately his business. He told me only out of quiet desperation and I shared without his permission and that was wrong. We can’t force him to talk if he doesn’t want to.’’

‘’Harry’s right.’’ Liam sighs. ‘’It has to be up to him, not us. We shouldn’t make decisions based on our worry and not based on what he wants.’’

‘’It doesn’t matter what he _wants_.’’ Zayn says adamantly. ‘’What matters is what he _needs_ , even if he refuses to admit it. He needs our help right now, okay? He needs us just as much as we need him and he has to know that.’’

‘’I am not going to conduct coercion on him, Zayn.’’ Liam says sternly, beating Harry to it who is fuming next to him. ‘’And sure, you’re right; he needs us but he already knows that so when he’s ready to talk, when he feels like he needs someone to be there for him, then we’ll be there for him just as Harry was. No need to use force, is that clear?’’

Zayn sighs but he nods, finally convinced. Liam is the voice of wisdom in their group so that’s to be expected, only with Zayn, he needs it to be spelt out for him sometimes.

‘’Alright then, since we’ve got our plans in order, I’m hungry.’’ Niall announces before he strides over to Mark and starts rattling off something akin to a bloody buffet.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so there's a fic series i wanna recommend and i've drawn inspirations from in writing this chapter. check out; ''the concotion series'' by anomalation. that's one thing. another is that I FRIEKING LOVE MADE IN THE AM, LIKE WOW, JUST WOW, I AM WEEPING, THEIR VOCALS ARE ACE, THEIR LYRICS ARE AMAZING THEIR SONGS ARE JUST BRILLIANT AND WONDERFUL AND FANTASTIC AND I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. okay, am calm now. thanx everyone for the lovely comments, i absolutely love your feedback so enjoy the update!

_“A sick thought can devour the body's flesh more than fever or consumption.”_

_Guy de Maupassant, Le Horla et autres contes fantastiques_

 

-When it’s time for Louis’ discharge, only Paul is there to take him. The fans had caught sight of Niall and Mark in the cafeteria, much to their security’s annoyance, and so they’ve had to evacuate the place and be brought back to their hotel.

When Paul explains this to Louis, he laughs his first proper laugh in a long time but then turns somber when Paul gives him a murky-green beanie, courtesy of one Harry Styles. His smile turns soft as he wears it, glad its hiding the bandages wrapped around his head. He keeps the hoodie on and shrugs when Paul asks him if he's alright because he is alright, somehow. His head isn’t aching so much with the help of the medication and physically he feels fine but for some reason, he feels like he’d taken many steps back.

It dawns on him as he signs his discharge papers that he’s stayed overnight in a hospital. There are men and women in white coats passing him in the hallway, people in scrubs and nurses uniforms and social workers, kids, parents, patients all passing him in a blur and he feels fourteen all over again with the sight.

‘’You done here?’’ Paul asks from behind him. He looks down and realizes he’d stopped signing his name mid-sentence. The nurse behind the counter is waiting for him impatiently. She had explained to him about the stitches and his meds in a way that was rushed, like she had important things to do and here he was, taking his sweet time. He flushes and scribbles the rest of his signature away, before Paul shuffles him to the hospital’s back door.

His head is aching again as he walks but it’s a different kind of ache; maybe because it’s already noon and he hasn’t taken his anxiety pills or maybe because his thoughts are just all over the place. He feels like there are loopholes in his memory, and they’re making him feel all fuzzy. It’s a bit jarring, having these big fragmented pieces of forgotten memories trying to fill up the trenches in his brain but they’re buried underneath layers of cement that he has avoided drilling through for years. Now, though he feels like he’d stepped on a mine and as he massages his temple, he feels those memories resurfacing, exploding in his head, trying to spread.

He’s barely aware of Paul leading him to the black Ford SUV, barely aware of what direction they’re headed as he continues to massage his temple. Looking at the ambulances passing them by, it’s supposed to be a relief knowing they’re rushing passed them towards the hospital to help the ailed and injured but then the sirens fill his ears…and everything changes. His heart rate picks up, his temples start pounding harder, the sound of the sirens loud in his eardrums. Every sound inside the car is amplified; the engine humming, the wheels rolling against asphalt, Mozart on Paul’s favorite radio station and especially the goddamn sirens. It echoes in his ears, deafening, and he can’t think anymore.

His breathing is wavering until it’s no longer steady and before he knows it, he’s hunched over, elbows on knees as he covers his ears with both hands, fingers prodding at his temples. This is hyperventilation, he thinks. He feels dangerously close to passing out and maybe he should go back to the hospital and just. Fuck. No, he can’t go back. No, he needs to calm down. He tries that, tries to calm his racing thoughts, tries to muffle out the sirens but then again they’re just sirens.

Sirens similar to the ones he heard the night his dad…

“Shit!” It takes him a second to realize that he said that out loud, voice shaky and fucking scared. Paul looks up at the mirror and sees his hunched form.

‘’Lou, you alright?’’

He shakes his head but that hurts so he closes his eyes. He realizes they’re not moving, that they’re barely a street away from the hospital because of traffic and the sirens won’t stop and just, fuck! He needs to get away; he needs it to go away. Paul is looking at him and he’s heard him and he might bring him back to the hospital and that can’t happen.

‘’Lou, what’s going on back there?’’

‘’Nothing,’’ he grits out and lies down, face facing the back of the car seat so Paul won’t look. But his hands are still covering his ears and his eyes are still closed. There are bombs going on in his head, memories ricocheting, blazing like a wall of fire, so massive they’re almost visible. He can see them, he can hear _his_ voice.

Paul’s voice cuts into his thoughts. “Louis, do you want me to turn back?”

‘’I’m fine.’’ He almost shouts because no; he is not fine and won’t be fine if he goes back. ‘’I just need to lie down, I want to go home.’’ He adds, voice desperate, hopeless. Shit, it’s hopeless. He is not okay. He’s fucked up beyond repair, and he’s unblocking a new memory, a new reason why he’ll never be okay...

_He sets Leo down on his bed, moving quickly and silently, covering Leo’s bottom half with a pair of joggers, getting his own clothes on before picking Leo up, lifting the boy with haggard arms that right now, need to be strong. Within minutes, he’s out of the room, down the stairs and out the front door, not looking back to see if their father is awake. He doesn't hear movement behind him, so he's sure the man is out cold._

_He's out of the flat within minutes, breathing in cold, sharp air. Leo is only wearing his Mickey Mouse shirt and joggers whereas he is in nothing but black boxers and a white tank top, the first things his hands were able to grab. Within minutes, he’s freezing cold, his bare feet getting dirty by the second but the cutting wind gives him enough energy to hold Leo up, walking as quickly as he can away from the building. He doesn't even know where he's going, just trying to put as much distance between them and their father as possible._

_He’s tripping over his own feet when he hears sirens and when he looks back down the street, he sees an ambulance coming towards him. It’s so dark, no moon in the sky and the streets are empty but the headlights from the ambulance are lighting up the whole street. He immediately takes action, and turns around. He holds Leo up with one arm and waves as he steps off the pavement._

_‘’Hey, help, stop!’’ he shouts as the ambulance comes nearer. ‘’Stop, I need help.’’ He shouts as he waves at the ambulance from the side but it just blazes past, sirens so loud, it deafens his voice. ‘’No, wait!’’ he tries to run after it but he steps on something sharp and curses loudly. The soles of his feet smart but he can’t see what he stepped on, hoping it’s not needles or a broken glass. He doesn’t realize he’s holding Leo tighter than usual until he’s caught his breathe. He cannot loosen up his grip though and he pushes the guilt of leaving more bruises on his little body away from now._

_‘’I’m sorry, baby but I need to get you help’’ he explains, lips trembling on Leo’s damp hair as he hauls him up further. ‘’Just bear with me a little bit.’’ He soothes as a second ambulance approaches. This time he goes nearer._

_‘’Help, please, stop!!’’ he shout, voice coarse and gritty from earlier. But even as his pounds a couple fists on the ambulance window, they still blaze passed him. ‘’Wait, wait!’’ he shouts, legs tripping over each other in his recklessness. He loses his balances over a couple of garbage bags littering the street and he falls hard. He wails in pain, deafening his own ears as Louis lands on top of his brother._

_‘’I’m sorry, kiddo, I’m so sorry.’’ Louis is quick to get back up and soothe as he gathers Leo back into his arms, his voice ringing down the now empty streets._

_‘’I’ll get you help. I promise I’ll get you help…’’_

_Deep breaths, deep breaths. C’mon you can do this. That isn’t your reality anymore,_ he tells himself. _You’re Louis Tomlinson; you’re in a band called One Direction. You’re in love with Harry. You’re safe. Leo. Leo._

He’s crying before he knows it, well, actually resumes crying because apparently he has been all this time. He is safe. Leo isn’t. Leo was never safe. And now, he’s here. He’s the one that made it and he’s reliving a memory he’d blocked out so long ago, a memory that’s now haunting him. He doesn’t know how long he’s been in the flashback, doesn’t know what he’s done or said or seen. It takes a second to remember how his body works, then he open his eyes.

He’s curled as tightly as possible in the car, hands covering his ears, face framed by his arms, elbows almost clicking against each other, knees to chest. The car’s stopped moving, Mozart is no longer blasting from the radio and the door is open. He hears voices, and when he takes a peak behind the fold of his arms, he sees Paul looking worriedly at him, back and forth, like there’s someone coming. And indeed there is, if Paul waving someone over is any indication. Before he knows it, Harry’s face is popping up at the open door.

‘’Lou,’’ he says breathlessly, like he’d been running a marathon as he enters the car but Louis flinches from him so badly, he actually sits up and presses his side against his door, arms curled around his legs and in return Harry flinches back.

‘’Hey, it’s okay, I’ll just sit here, okay?’’ Harry says hurriedly. Louis realizes he’s curled up so tight, he’s breathing frantically.

‘’What can I do?’’ Paul asks, peering at Harry. Louis sees the man's phone clutched in his hand and realizes that he’s probably already explained via text to Harry…whatever it is that had happened.

‘’Just leave us, I’ll take care of him.’’ Harry says quietly, like hushed tones are necessary for the situation. Paul nods and when he glances at him, Louis looks away.

‘’Lou, just breathe, okay?’’ Harry says quietly, ‘’Just breathe and take your time. No one’s rushing you.’’

Louis nods minutely and focuses on breathing. He loosens up his arms a bit so his legs aren’t crushing his ribcage and exhales a long one.

When he calms down, all is silent. Louis takes a peak sideways and he notices that the door on Harry’s side is still open which honestly is a relief. But its open to a wall and when Louis looks around, he realizes they’re in their hotel’s parking grounds and it makes him queasy. He doesn’t want to be confined, not when he still feels vulnerable.

He dares to take a look at Harry and the boy’s still there, sitting anxiously near, eyes dripping with worry, trying not to look at Louis but looking all the same, with nothing but concern and if Louis is a bit confident, he’d say its love without hesitation.

They sit there for an hour while Louis tries to calm his racing thoughts. It feels like he’s looking for safe shores, a ground free of mines because he won’t be able to handle another flashback, not like this. He looks out the window and is glad the glass is tinted so that people from the outside won’t be able to see two pop stars sitting in the parking lot, doing God knows that, because no way the media won’t spin it into some twisted media-craze. He knows what people would like to assume and therefore, he knows they can’t stay in the car for too long. Still, it takes him about fifteen minutes before he takes another deep breath.

He clears his throat, and Harry looks at him instantly, directly, waiting on his every move, his bow-shaped lips in a serious-looking pout. It’s kinda cute, if Harry didn’t look petrified or even worse, heartbroken.

“What did Paul tell you?” Louis asks; his voice raw. He raises his head and wipes at his face, remnant tears now on his sleeve instead. He hopes he doesn’t look too bad in front of Harry.

‘’Not much,’’ Harry shrugs. ‘’Said he thought you were having a migraine, that you decided to take a nap on the way over but when he opened the door, he saw you were crying and…so he called me.’’

Louis knows there’s more to that. God knows how he looks when he’s not aware that he’s being besides himself. He hopes Paul doesn’t ask him about it later. It’s already too much on his plate as it is.

‘’I see.’’

“You had a flashback,” Harry says questioningly, it makes Louis’ eyes flash with pain and it’s a good thing that he’s not looking at Harry. That boy doesn’t need the guilt. “Right?”

“Yeah.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “It triggered a memory and...” he can’t continue.

Harry can only nod.

“Well, what made that happen? So, you know, we can avoid it,” Harry ventures, voice shaking.

“Sirens.” Louis whispers. He doesn’t want to re-live this. He’s got his palm against his forehead, his eyes closed as he tries to stave off more tears.

“Sorry?” Harry asks because Louis’ voice was too low to be heard.

Louis doesn’t know what to say; he doesn’t want to repeat himself, but this is Harry and God knows what he might be thinking right now. He’d gone crazy before, lost his head and fell apart a thousand times worse than this and just because that was a long time ago, doesn’t mean it won’t happen again. Not to mention that, if Harry is freaked out already then God knows how their relationship is ever going to continue.

The thing is though, he’s not crazy, not right now, he’s just…feeling a bit overwhelmed. But Harry is important. Harry is sweet and beautiful and soft-hearted and he’s here. Above all else, he is still here, waiting on him so he figures he has to be honest, for his sake.

‘’I remembered a bad night. That’s all.’’ Well, at least he tried, he thinks.

‘’I think there’s more to that.’’ And of course, Harry sees right through him. He looks up, biting his lip.

‘’You don’t have to deal with this. You want to leave, you can, y’know.”

Harry shakes his head and he looks almost offended. “I don’t.”

“I’m really sorry.” Louis cannot think of anything other than that to say.

“It’s okay.” Harry’s hand twitches and Louis knows that he wants to touch him, comfort him and God. He wants nothing more than that, to at least let Harry hold his hand but he can’t. He’s not ready just yet.

“You don’t have to do this,” is all Louis can utter.

“You know; whatever it is you remembered…it isn’t your fault, love.” Harry says boldly.

How is it possible for him to be this sweet still? Louis cannot help but think.

“You don’t know enough to say that.”

“I know you, no matter what you have or haven’t said.”

Louis doesn’t know how to reply to that, so he focuses on breathing instead, works on clenching and unclenching the pressure in his chest.

“You’re a good person.’’ Harry continues surprisingly. ‘’Your past wasn’t good but that doesn’t mean you aren’t and I think it’s easier for me to see that because I can be objective about it, like, I don’t get caught up in it. I can think clearly enough for the both of us, I guess.”

“You can’t be sure.” Louis shakes his head. ‘’No matter what, you just can’t be.’’

Harry’s eyes turn softer, if that’s even possible and it reminds Louis of warm sweaters and knitted scarves and wool blankets and the soft beanie covering his hair and he wonders, since when has he started thinking about Harry as winter?

“Okay, well, ‘’ once again, he’s surprised when Harry talks. ‘’I’m still here. No matter what, you can always choose to tell me, whatever it is you think I need to be sure of.”

“Really?’’

“Yup.”

“Okay. I guess that’s…” Louis takes a deep breath. God, he feels so unsteady. “I don’t know. I can’t think right now, Haz.”

“That’s alright,” Harry assures him, and then he just sits there silently. He seems content to be quiet along with him and it’s nice.

Louis wants to appreciate the silence, the space he’s been given but then he realizes he’s just going to drown in his own thoughts again and to have Harry watch him fall apart again is unbearable.

He gulps a couple of deep breaths and this time, surprises himself.

“The night dad took it too far, was a night he’d hurt Leo just as much as he’d been hurting me and that’s when I realized, it wasn’t safe for us anymore.’’ He takes in a shuddering breathe but doesn’t stop. ‘’So I left, with nothing but Leo and like, barely clothes on the both of us, just us and nothing else. It was so dark outside and so fucking cold,’’ Louis pauses, like he needs to catch a breath. He can still remember the smoke coming out of his mouth, the feel of gravel on the soles of his feet, Leo’s tired weight in his arms. He rests his head on the headrest behind him, looking at the ceiling of the car instead of Harry. ‘’I didn’t know where I was going, I didn’t know who to go to, I had no one, but Leo needed help.’’ He swallows. ‘’I saw a couple of ambulances coming down the street I was in and I tried to stop them, I tried to get them to help me but they stopped for nobody, just kept going, until the streets were empty, all dark and quiet again.’’

‘’Shit.’’ Harry cursed quietly. ‘’God, Lou, I…’’

‘’They didn’t help me. They didn’t stop, they didn’t look back.’’ Louis continues; fresh tears brimming over. ‘’And only now I’m remembering it because I’d blocked the memory out, you know?’’ he glances at Harry and sees his eyes mirroring his; wet, vulnerable. ‘’It hurt too much to remember.

‘’And thinking about it, I can’t blame them because, maybe they had a dying man in need of a hospital or maybe they were headed towards an emergency, but in that moment, that night, out there with Leo, all hurt in my arms, I’d never felt so alone, felt like the world’s turned its back on us.’’

Harry nods in understanding and a couple of tears slip that he brushes off immediately. Louis thinks it’s because Harry doesn’t feel entitled to be sadder than Louis and that’s, well. It’s sweet of him to show how understanding he really is.

‘’I wish you know how sorry I am,’’ Harry’s thick voice says in earnest. ‘’And how much I want to kill your dad.’’

Louis swallows and looks back up at the ceiling of the car.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how about them london sessions? I am falling in love with 1D allover again. anyways, u might wanna skim the last chapter as this one is a direct continuation from it. enjoy the update :D

_“A mind can bleed a heart to death.”_  
_―Munia Khan_

 

 

-Harry leaves him to his thoughts for a bit, waiting on him in the car, ever so patient and Louis, for once, feels like talking.

‘’My dad…I don’t remember everything he’s done to me or Leo. I can barely grasp half of what I do remember and I try to block it out, put a stopper on it or something, I don’t know. The worst of it though, I’ve managed that, as in I’ve managed to shut it out because it’s not something I want to live with and because I’m fucked up enough to know it’s not all on dad. I don’t bother trying to fill the blanks but there are times when it just, I don’t know, hits me, right out of the blue but in fragments. And when that happens, I just feel so powerless because all it means is that I never really had the strength to block things out, no those things were merely hiding from my mind, waiting to pounce when I’m least ready.’’ He pauses, tries to gather his jumbled thoughts into order. ‘’I thought…with the anxiety pills, I thought I had them under control, I thought by getting into the x-factor and continuing with the band, that I’ve somehow managed to find a way to move on and leave it all behind, that I won’t be triggered anymore but whatever, I’m sorry, I’ll try not lose it like this again,” he starts to apologize, for his rambling, for his way-ward mind, for anything really because Harry probably did not understand half of what he’d just said.

“Hey, don’t say sorry,” Harry says, wiping underneath his eyes again. “I can’t be angry with you for being honest with me, okay?”

“Okay. Well, I’m still sorry. People aren’t supposed to freak the fuck out like this, not when they’re supposed to have moved on.” Louis reasons, and looking at Harry sideways, he blinks only to genuinely be surprised that there are tears slipping from his own eyes. He blinks them away, too late to wipe them for Harry not to see.

“Dads are not supposed to hurt their kids either, Louis.” Harry says flatly. “None of what happened to you is your fault so don’t ever apologize, okay? God.” Harry doesn’t bother wiping his face off either.

Louis doesn’t know what to say. He feels exhausted, wiped out.

“Do you want to go?” Harry asks. ‘’You look tired.’’

“Yeah, definitely,” Louis nods. He’s done talking, feels tired to the bone. But a sense of warmth exudes from the very same bones at Harry noticing his exhaustion, like he lives within him and knows exactly how he feels and regardless of him just sitting there, not moving, it doesn’t get awkward between them. Not yet at least.

‘’I’m glad you talked to me.’’ Harry says, filling the silence. ‘’I thought, after the hospital, with the boys and…’’ he stutters, glancing at Louis worriedly.

‘’I really don’t know how I’m going to deal with that.’’ Louis sighs deeply but in all honestly, he’d rather worry about the boys than have another memory unravel. He feels so weak, almost physically, like if Harry leaves him in the car with his thoughts, he’ll explode again and slip into a world he thought he’d left behind.

‘’Well, do you feel better? Talking to me? Cause, if you do, then it won’t be so bad if the boys know because then, you can talk to them too if I’m not enough.’’

He can see the pain in Harry’s eyes when he says that last bit and Louis knows; he knows Harry wants to be enough. He wishes that Harry was enough too but with his past catching up to him, he’s not sure Harry can be and so he doesn’t know what to say.

“And it  _will_  help, you know. I’ll make sure of it.” Harry adds. His confidence is admirable but Louis’ mind is too fried to appreciate it.

“I don’t know about that,” Louis shakes my head then takes a deep breath. ‘’Like, I can talk to you, I lo…I know you love me, like, it makes you different in a way.’’

Harry looks like he wants to smile but he’s trying to respect the situation so his face turns a bit frog-like and well, he’s like the sun incarnate. It makes Louis smile.

“Hey, you’re smiling.’’ Harry points out and Louis’ smile turns bashful.

‘’Yeah, well,’’

‘’C-Can I hug you now?’’ Harry asks tentatively. Louis looks at him for a second, like he’s trying to study the situation and Harry stays very still, allowing himself to be studied. The fact that he’d sat in his corner this whole time, giving Louis his space, talking to him softly, like he has a voice he reserves just to smooth Louis over with, it makes Louis yearn for his touch.

He nods, worn-blue eyes exuding some sort of desperate need, but Harry still moves carefully, with no rush, like they’ve got no hotel room to be in, no radio interviews, no Paul waiting by the elevator doors, looking at them. When Harry is finally skin close, Louis fold himself unto his side, and as soon as Harry wraps his arms around him, chin on his beanie-clad head, he relaxes. Harry brings his legs on his lap and hugs him sideways, big hand covering his cheek and fingers in his hair.

‘’I’m so sorry for what happened that night.’’ He says quietly. ‘’Wish you didn’t have to remember it.’’

‘’Wish I didn’t have to live it in the first place.’’

Harry makes a hurt noise. ‘’Yeah.’’

They stay like that for 5 minutes before Harry’s phone starts buzzing and Louis knows that their time is up.

They have one last show to do the day after tomorrow before they take their final bow and say good-bye to the Up all Night tour. It’s hard to believe that it’s over, that all those months have passed by so quickly, it feels like a blur. Looking back, Louis is happy to have been a part of it, and not only because of the fans and the new places they’ve seen and have never been to before, but because he and Harry became more than friends and continued to grow closer as the days moved on.

However, Louis feels like something has cracked inside of him, something that has been sealed behind a vault for so long but under the constant stress and media scrutiny, was able to bleed its way out and into the folds of his brain. He doesn’t know how to explain it, because he knows what it’s about but as always, words never seem to make themselves clear enough to form his thoughts into coherent sentences. He feels like Harry understands though, knows that the subject matter is fragile enough as it is. But Louis hates that; he hates being fragile, he hates that his past is catching up to him. He wants to be ‘super Louis’ again, a nickname the boys had adopted for him when he’s bouncing off the walls and teasing them, making sure they’re happy and laughing. All he ever wants is for his boys to be happy and not to worry about him.

Like now, they have an interview in their hotel room followed by a performance in the hotel living room where the interview is going to be conducted. He and Harry are escorted to the room designed for Lou’s make-up and Caroline’s wardrobe collection for them. The other three boys are there, eating Pringles and gummy bears, chatting away. They’re sitting around a round, plastic table at the balcony while Lou and Caroline sort their things out on the beds. Harry reaches back from where Louis’ walking behind the tall lad and tugs at his wrist. He isn’t aware that he’d tensed up and stopped walking until Harry’s touch soothes him almost instantly. Almost because he knows he’s going to have to talk.

‘’Don’t be nervous,’’ Harry whispers to his ear, crowding him to the wall and away from Lou and Caroline’s curious eyes. Louis gulps.

‘’I’m not.’’ It’s a lie and they both know it. Harry sighs before he presses a kiss to his temple. It soothes him even more and he knows it would soothe him completely if the contact wasn't skin to fiber but rather skin to skin. Yeah, he could do with just a little more.

‘’You don’t have to say anything that discomforts you.’’ Harry says gently, holding his small hands, rubbing his thumbs across the back of them. ‘’They’re our brothers; they’ll understand.’’

Louis hasn’t taken his eyes off the sliding window the moment he entered the room. He can see a part of Liam’s shoulder and Niall’s back. He’s so nervous, he feels like sprinting down the hallway and back to the parking lot.

‘’I can’t…’’ he chokes out. Harry squeezes his hands and it grounds him a little bit.

‘’You can.’’ Harry says, lips hovering close to his cheekbone from how close he’s standing. ‘’They love you. I promise.’’

He finally looks at Harry and he sees compassion there and a whole lot of love that he can never believe he deserves. It’s why he cannot say it back; he cannot give Harry that hope, cannot risk it coming out false.

‘’You promise.’’

‘’I do.’’

Louis takes a deep breath and nods. He finally squeezes Harry’s hands back.

‘’Don’t let go of me.’’ Harry turns more serious than he already is and nods steadily.

‘’I won’t.’’ he presses a quick peck to Louis’ cheekbone and looks at him with wide, trusting eyes. Louis wishes he trusts him just as much with his thoughts.

Harry moves towards the balcony, never letting go of Louis’ hand. Louis focuses on breathing and it’s almost surprising to see that he needs to pay attention to that, to keep on filling his lungs with air.

As soon as Harry slides open the balcony door, Liam’s turns his head and the two other look at them. Before even a tenth of a minute passes, Zayn is up from his seat and gripping Louis in a tight hug.

They don’t say anything and only when Louis stops being limp and pats Zayn on the back does the raven-haired boy back up.

‘’You’re okay?’’ he asks, gripping Louis’ waist. Louis doesn’t feel comfortable so he takes a step back, Harry right next to him. Zayn takes the hint and steps back too but he looks hurt. Curious but hurt. Louis focuses on the first because he’d take that rather than a look akin to pity. Liam and Niall are still seated but are turned towards them and Louis plucks up some courage and looks at all of them.

‘’I don’t want to talk about it, whatever it is you know now and you know enough as it is so, that’s that, yeah?’’

‘’Lou…’’ Zayn takes a step forward but Louis puts his hand up, backing him to step away. It’s not on purpose and he’s surprised of himself. Louis has always been reserved, only ever allowing Harry to crowd his space because he likes Harry’s closeness. Throughout the tour though, he and the boys have grown closer to each other, and they’re always looking up to him for guidance. Therefore, he was always one to initiate contact and be all touchy-feely and cuddly with them to make them feel comfortable within their own skin. He didn’t like so much when it was the other way around and before, he just tried to go along with it and it happen bashfully. Now though, he can’t hide it how much it discomforts him.

He shoves his hand in his pocket knowing it’s futile to take the gesture back. He also doesn’t bother looking at the boys anymore and the feeling of being fragile hits him all over again.

‘’Look, it’s because talking about it means I’ll have to think about it, and those are the two things I’ve been trying to avoid for years because it takes my control away and I can’t have that, alright?” Louis says and he bites his lip because that statement was a bit too revealing. He doesn’t want them to know how much he’d suffered, how long he’d had to feel like drowning and how that feeling feels like its creeping its way back to him, thrumming under his skin. Most importantly, he can’t have them know that Harry was able to take that control away and yet, replace it with safety, so yes, even though Harry is an exception, he doesn’t want to flaunt it, especially in front of Zayn.

“Okay,” Zayn says and he looks placating. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable so yeah, your business is your business, I get that. But you shouldn’t have to bottle everything up. You should talk to one of us the way you did with Harry.”

Pointing that out is a bit of a blow because Zayn just made the assumption that Harry will get to hear Louis talk again and Louis doesn’t want the lad to feel like he’s now got the right only to be hurt when Louis turns him down. He knows that he won’t always be willing to talk; that he can turn Harry away the way he did at the hospital, no matter how much it hurt Harry. Therefore, he cannot believe Zayn just handed Harry that power and it’s selfish to think that way when it’s obvious that Zayn didn’t mean it.

“I’ll, yeah. Whatever, thanks.” He says, a little bit curt.

“Okay,” Zayn drawls, aware that he’d done something wrong but not sure. “You want to sit down? We’re just snacking before the interviewer arrives.”

So, they sit, Harry near him, never letting go of his hand. Niall breaks the ice by offering Louis two packets of gummy bears of two different brands, telling him to choose because he can’t. It startles a laugh out of him because it’s such a Niall thing to say. The lad always finds it hard to choose between food and Louis has always found it funny. Before he knows it, they’re all snacking and talking about their plans for home.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loving all the 1D promo interviews, except fro the ones that are too invasive. i love the ones were they actually ask about their music. anyways, some inspirationfor this chapter comes after i've re-read ''the dead of july'' by whimsicule and ''fading'' by tothemoonmydear. now, here is a bit of fluff. enjoy!

  _‘’So I’ll wait for you, and I’ll burn.’’_

_Jeff Buckley_

 

-Their interview is smooth-sailing and Louis gets to assure the fans that he is fine when the interviewer asks about the paps incident and his head injury. Their performance also goes without a hitch. After that, they pack up and head for a venue where they’re going to perform for some fans from a charity organization and hold a Q&A sort of thing for them. Louis doesn’t want to feel depressed even though his headache is making him feel like it so after they sign some stuff with the fans waiting upon their arrival for them, he gulps a sleeping pill and excuses himself, says he’s tired and needs some rest. Considering he just came from the hospital, their handlers let him off the hook.

He’s got his bandaged head wrapped up in another warm beanie, newly knitted by Harry, who offers it to him shyly. Louis accepts it with a grateful smile and though it’s a bit hot outside, it comes in handy when he turns on the AC inside one of the abandoned rooms he chooses for his rest. He sleeps his headache away but not alone. Harry tags along and keeps him company, holding him tight to his chest on the sofa they’ve found and says he’ll act as his alarm clock. Louis burrows into his chest almost helplessly and Harry hopes he sleeps the one hour and a half without a hitch.

Harry holds unto Louis and stays awake. He feels accomplished, like he’d been handed something precious to guard and protect and being allowed this proximity to Louis considering the day’s events, seems like proof enough. He wonders if Louis will open up more, the way he’d done in the car. As much as he wants Louis to share his past with him, he is actually terrified of the magnanimity of horrors Louis still has up his sleeves.

And it’s hard now, knowing that. Knowing that Louis has all this stored up pain weighing him down, causing him to retreat just a little further back in his shell than usual and Harry has to work to coax him out of it, bring the old Louis back.

Harry is beginning to discover that Louis’ walls are not made of bricks that can easily crumble. No, they’re made of steel, forged in the span of six years of being hurt and lost, thinking he’s going to be protected behind it but Harry’s seen enough to know that behind those walls Louis is fragile. It’s so blatant now and he wonders how he didn’t see this sooner considering how much time he always spends just looking at him from the day they first met.

It’s there in the way Louis sometimes struggles to meet his eyes, the way he wilts from attention, the way he'd be willing to listen to Harry talk for hours on ends but when it came his turn to speak, it’s like he needs to be navigated through an active minefield or else he won’t come out alive. And it’s not like Louis has no spine or anything, it’s not like he is ashamed of the sound of his own voice or has no mind to speak up but the way he sometimes can make himself smaller, just smiling and quiet in a secluded corner without even being aware of it is so wrong, it’s so wrong and it hurts Harry to see that because Louis is so big a character and loud a voice and responsible a person with all of them but when it comes to carrying himself around, like, it’s bad enough that he had never grown out of his x-factor height, to appear smaller than his actual frame is hard to look at sometimes.

He’d always been the biggest and brightest presence, an anchor in a storm, when they were going through their darkest days, when the fame would get too much, when they thought it was all for nothing. He’d never hid himself when it came to defending the boys, never tried to shrink away when someone out there was dissing the band and fetching for some sort of proof that they are so not worth someone’s radio time or spot on the charts and he isn’t – Louis isn’t ashamed of being with them, of being a band member formed on some T.V. show rather than a sensational solo act.

But now, Harry feels like Louis’ exterior is deteriorating under the weather and if Harry can read him even the tiniest amount, he’d know that these changes ought not to be surprising, that on the contrary, they were a long time coming because it must be numbing and crippling to have the world at the tip of his fingers only to spend it in a realm mixed with remembering what happened, what he’d lost.

Louis shifts a bit, body burrowing further to his side and Harry holds him closer, working the hand covering Louis’ on his chest to wrap around it completely. He remembers the first time he held Louis’ hand that way, when he was too addled with adrenaline and couldn’t shut up the night before their first ever live show and Louis, attentive to his excitement but tired from all the promo, fell asleep on him, a smile on his face. It felt like an honor, to be able to see Louis fall asleep like that; happy and content and safe. He knew he had to be the cause for that disarmed smile to appear again.

These days though, it feels like Louis can barely sleep, let alone sleep happy. There are so many layers to him, so many things that Louis has yet to share that Harry doesn’t know if he’ll every truly figure him out on his own, but he’s trying. He can read Louis better now and he knows he can learn how to take care of him when he’s in a dreadful state and make him feel comfortable after flashbacks. He also knows that if he can make Louis smile, then he can do anything else, as naïve as that thought is.

Yes, it’s almost wishful thinking but he’ll do anything to erase Louis’ eyes from going blank and helpless, radiating pain like that night in the tour bus bathroom. Harry would rather saw off both his arms than to ever have Louis go through something like that again.

‘’I can hear you thinking, Haz.’’

He’s startled out of it with the sound of a raspy voice. He looks down and watches, almost in a daze as Louis burrows into his chest then turns his head up, blinking deep blue eyes open, staring right at him. He almost looks too beautiful to look at. Almost; Harry could never turn away from looking at him, even if he tried which he knows he won’t. God, he sounds whipped.

‘’I am so whipped for you.’’ Harry blurts. Once again, he’s lost all censorship over his thoughts, like he always wants to spill everything to Louis.

Louis just looks at him at first but from so close, Harry can see his face soften, his mouth twitching like its aching for a smile. There’s also a faint tint of a blush across his button nose. Harry wants to kiss him.

‘’That’s what you’ve been thinking about?’’ Louis asks softly, like he’s still in that in between place of waking up and still asleep.

‘’I think I’m constantly thinking about you,’’ he swallows, almost startled by his own admission. ‘’Like, every second of every day. Whipped, right?’’ he chuckles, because he is _crazy in love._

Louis tilts his face so that half is buried in his chest, and Harry realizes that he made Louis shy. He can see literally how he glows even if he’s still not letting himself smile. The blush spreads over his cheeks and his eyes almost shine and sparkle.

‘’Yeah, definitely whipped.’’ Louis exhales, his voice coming off almost bedroom-like. Harry is so gone.

‘’I want to kiss you.’’ He admits. He literally has no filter.

Louis just nods and a small smile graces his lips as he tips his head up. Harry lowers his face and presses his hand tighter around Louis’ waist, cushioning his lips on Louis’ soft ones.

It’s just a press of lips but it’s everything Harry has ever wanted. Just to have Louis this close, this warm, in his arms. No amount of love he receives from the fans will ever come close to how much he loves Louis, especially when he’s like this; reciprocating, allowing himself to be loved by Harry.

Louis pulls back first, his forehead resting on Harry’s jaw, eyes closed. Harry can feel the flutter of Louis’ eyelashes on his cheek and he can’t help but press kisses to Louis’ fringe-covered forehead.

‘’I love you,’’ he tells him when Louis’ been quiet for some time.

‘’Do you really mean that?’’ Louis asks, voice so close, Harry can feel the rumble of his chest. He pulls back and looks down at Louis, who is staring up at him with big eyes, in need of trust.

‘’I mean it every time I say it, Lou.’’ Harry says carefully. He doesn’t like Louis doubting him because if there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s loving Louis unconditionally.

‘’Even when I’m not like this? All… _easy_ for you to love me?’’ Louis asks with genuine interest and Harry would take offense if he didn’t realize that Louis is serious.

‘’Easy for me to love you?’’ Harry’s brow furrows when Louis nods.

‘’I’m not being too much right now or disturbing you, am I? Must be…’’

‘’Disturbing me?’’ Harry is starting to feel distressed. ‘’You…Louis, I love you in every way, shape or form.’’ He says with a lump in his throat because he finally gets what Louis is trying to say. ‘’The fact that I feel awful when you’re distressed is because I love you so much and it hurts me when I can’t undo whatever pain you’re going through. It’s the worst thing in the world, Louis but it doesn’t mean I hate you for it, or that it’s easier to love you when you’re not like that. That…that’s not what love is about, babe.’’

‘’Enlighten me then.’’ Louis says with a small teasing smile but there’s emotion swimming in his eyes. Harry is hesitant lest he overwhelms him but he needs Louis to know this.

‘’It’s…I think its loving you regardless of whether you’re a pain in the arse or cuddly as a teddy bear.’’ Harry says all too seriously and Louis laughs which was exactly what Harry was aiming for. But then he sobers up.

‘’It’s knowing you trust me to be there for you when you need me even if you don’t ask for me out loud, just trust me to be there with you.’’

‘’But there are times when I don’t think you can help, even if I do trust you.’’ Louis admits.

‘’I know but it doesn’t make me love you any less and that would never make me give up on you.’’ Louis says nothing so Harry continues. ‘’Louis, I will always fight for you, even if you turn away from me because I know you’re not doing it on purpose. I know that whatever it is you went through might take years for me to comprehend but you have to know, that I’d wait a lifetime for you, no matter what. I’ll always be here for you, Lou. Always.’’

Louis doesn’t say anything but the way he burrows into Harry and clings to him until Paul fetches them says all that Harry needs to hear.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know that this is a short update but a lot is coming up in the next couple of chapters so here's some sort of breather before we hit the eye of the storm, as they say. anyways, enjoy xoxo

_''How long will I love you?_  
_As long as stars are above you_  
_And longer, if I can._  
  
_How long will I need you?_  
_As long as the seasons need to_  
_Follow their plan._  
  
_How long will I be with you?_  
_As long as the sea is bound to_  
_Wash upon the sand._  
  
_How long will I want you?_  
_As long as you want me to_  
_And longer by far.''_

_Ellie Goulding_

 

 

They’re finally on their way home, back to cold weather and family time, back to their comfortable homes. They’re in the first class lounge, with a corner solely for them, their tour manager Paul, their trainer Mark and their two bodyguards, Phil and Alberto. The treatment was a surprise gift from their management, a going-home present as the mail they received and delivered from Paul said. You see, contrary to popular belief, flying this style is not their usual means as it’s only their first ever 1D tour –hopefully not their last, Louis thinks- so it’s not like they were riding first class all the time, therefore Louis and the boys were like over-grown puppies, scattering their stuff everywhere as they jumped on their bed-like dreamy seats and munched on expensive nuts before exhaustion hit them.

Louis is sitting by the window on the plane. He’s finally gotten his stitches removed two days ago and the awful bandages restricting his hair function thrown in a bin somewhere, along with those headache pills that almost always makes him feel drowsy. He's tired but finds himself unable to sleep. The flight so far has been quiet after their excitement wore off in exchange for their need to rest. Zayn is dead asleep across from him and Liam is watching a movie next to Zayn. They’d turned their seats around, just for the fun of it then kept it that way and it must have been something for their adult companions to see, most probably endeared by how these kids were still so new to the world they’re living now.

Niall is sitting next to Liam across the aisle, head lolling on Mark’s broad shoulder, listening to music with his eyes closed but Louis knows he’s not asleep.

Harry is burrowed to his side. He’d pulled down the metal that separated the airline chairs and wound his arms across Louis’ midriff. Louis had merely chuckled when Harry balled up Louis’ hoodie, which he’d stolen from him on the car ride over to the airport, and pressed it against Louis’ shoulder before he laid his head on him.

‘’You know, the airline’s provided these soft, small things called ‘’pillows’’ that you can use,’’ Louis had commented but Harry just grunted, muttering something about Louis’ divine smell being his guilty pleasure or something of the sort before he demanded Louis not to move so that he can sleep, using Louis as his own pillow, much to the shorter boy’s amusement. Harry seemed like a disgruntled kitten when Louis tried to sneak it off his shoulder half an hour later and replace it with a damn pillow. Well, not a disgruntled kitten; more like a pouty puppy with the way he’d tried to bite at Louis’ hand when he felt the hoodie move under his cheek.

‘’Alright, alright.’’ Louis had said when Harry then butted his forehead with his hand and pushed it away as he squirmed even closer, fermenting his head on Louis’ shoulder and trapping the balled-up hoodie in its place. Louis just rolled his eyes at him but he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

His shoulder is now starting to feel numb, muscles aching for a stretch. They’d reclined the seats but not all the way down as Harry was too lazy to get up and reach for the button to do it and too clingy to let Louis sit up and do his own either. Harry is practically lying on top of him though, one leg thrown on his thigh halfway through his sleep so he couldn’t move now even if he wanted to. Paul was kind enough to hand over a blanket earlier on when Louis tried to pull away to fetch one but Harry just clung tighter, refusing to let go. Louis had blushed when Paul handed one over without a word and he didn’t say anything either, as he covered him and Harry up with the warm fuzzy thing.

Trying to get some feeling into his arm, he begins moving his trapped arm up and down Harry’s side, from the side of his shoulder to the bone of his hip. It’s always been a comfortable gesture for him to do, even though he’s the one more or less doing the comfort. It just tugs at a much less bitter memory for him, back when one cold-wintry day, the heater had broken down on him and Leo and he had rubbed up and down Leo’s side so that the boy can warm up and fall asleep without chattering teeth and goose bumpy skin.

He gets that heavy feeling again just thinking about it, like he’s tied to bricks. Having all those memories easily finding their way back after being repressed for so long is getting a bit out of hand and he doesn’t know how he can go back to being able to handle it, not sure if he even stands a chance at this point.

In trying to move on, in suppressing and burying, he’d washed away the good memories he’d had along with the bad; all the times he had Leo, solid and permanent in his presence, back when he had physical proof that he was strong enough to solely take care of another person, that everything would be alright, that regardless of the circumstances, he was doing the best he can.

He doesn’t want it to be hard creating new memories with the band and with Harry. But he knows that nothing will ever last, that like his past, his present and future will also contain bad memories along the good.

Harry will one day realize that he’s too much to handle, too caught up in the past, too clingy to what he’d lost, too absorbed into holding on to something he should just bloody let go of and it’s not right to have Harry fight his haunting demons alongside him. He loves Harry yet he can’t even say it so how is that fair?

All he can do is wait it out. He tries to convince himself that he won’t be the one to break Harry’s heart, at least not on purpose or even if it feels like it’s headed that way anyway.

He clings to Harry as he sighs, burrowing his face in Harry’s hair, trying to hold on to this memory that isn’t all too bad.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an update! Enjoy!

_''this could be the..._  
_Start of somethin' new_  
_It feels so right_  
_To be here with you, ooh_  
_And now lookin' in your eyes_  
_I feel in my heart_  
_The start of somethin' new''_

_High School Musical_

 

 

Time back in their flat is different from before. Sure, the quiet and freedom is there and it’s nice and lovely, to be able to wake up with no alarm clocks ringing, no early morning talk shows or late night shows to attend. Its good, and just what Louis needed.

He sleeps off the first three days and doesn’t bother to wake up early as is his usual, tired beyond measure. Harry sympathizes, knows that the tour had been harder on Louis than the rest of them and so he’s extra sweet with him. He lets Louis wake up on his own pace, wakes up before him to have breakfast ready and the kettle on low, ready to have tea prepared for Louis.

It’s also been nice sharing a bed ever since they’ve gotten back. Being boyfriends has some cool privileges, Harry thinks. They had been extra cuddly lately, spending their afternoons watching movies (or him watching Louis while Louis reads a book with the telly on, supposedly for Harry to watch).

On the fourth day, before he leaves the bedroom and a toasty-warm Louis under the sheets, he goes through his usual routine of laying out a couple of his own jumpers on his side of the bed for Louis to wear when he gets up. Since they’re heading for the thick of winter, and it is already freezing in the mornings, he wants Louis to be as warm in their kitchen as he is wrapped up in their winter blankets.

It’s as lovely a sight as it has been for the past three days, to see Louis stumbling downstairs on socks-padded feet, soft gray sweatpants and one of his own baggy sweaters with the sleeves forming sweater paws over Louis’ hands and the collar on low, showing off beautiful collarbones.

‘’Morning, Lou,’’ he greets Louis. He’s sitting at their kitchen table, playing scrabble against himself, two plates filled with bacon and eggs on toast covered to maintain their warmth and the kettle on low. There are two mugs on the counter beside the kettle, waiting to be served.

‘’Morning,’’ Louis rasps, bending down to press a kiss to Harry’s temple before heading for the kettle. The mugs on the counter are ready, one with a Yorkshire tea bag and the other with a cinnamon one. All Louis has to do is turn down the burner and pour the warm water.

He gives Harry his drink then sits across from him, pulling one of the plates over and uncovering it. He and Harry eat and drink quietly and just as seamlessly, Louis pulls one of the tiled little platforms and plays against Harry.

‘’You know you’ll never beat me,’’ Harry says after Louis forms the word ‘scatter’ to Harry’s previously formed word ‘cat’. It’s also a blatant lie; he and Louis are on an even spread, what with Louis reading a lot and Harry trained from his many afternoon teas with his mom.

‘’You can dream, love.’’ Louis retorts quietly, a small, content teasing smile on his lips. Harry chuckles before he goes quiet again. He doesn’t mind; it’s quite a bleak morning, the clouds dreary and the light from the windows pale and gray. They continue to play even after they’ve finished their breakfast. When it comes to Harry’s turn, Louis picks up their plates and heads for the sink.

He’s supposed to put down a word before Louis’ done, but alas, he finds himself still trying to come up with a word to get rid of the letter ‘’Q’’ in his tiles. Louis turns off the water, folds the sweater sleeves over his hands as he prepares for them another set of tea. He sets Harry’s on the table and picks up his between dainty hands. He remains standing, peering over the scrabble board, waiting for Harry’s turn and at the same time, contemplating a place to put his own tiles as the game nears its end.

In the silent morning, there in their cozy kitchen, he cannot help but look at Louis’ form. He forgets about his tiles and wonders how on earth he got so lucky.

The past three days have been more than he ever expected them to be because he never expected to end up having Louis as his boyfriend and living with said boyfriend in the house they bought together as best friends and own equally.

It’s not to say he’s forgotten about Louis’ past or what the past days on tour had dug up. On the contrary, he’d been doing his best to make sure Louis was somewhat recovering from all the mental stress he’d been through; putting on low music, cuddling up on the couch while watching films, talking silently while making dinner, Louis sitting on the counter while Harry filled the silence with funny anecdotes and his cooking skills.

It worries Harry a bit because Louis has been so quiet, opting to read most of the time, cook Harry lunch then watch him cook for them dinner in return. While all that is completely normal behavior to expect from him during their downtime but, considering what’s happened, Harry cannot be too sure if this is Louis merely winding down or Louis avoiding opening up to Harry.

But in that moment, however, all his worries over Louis’ well-being were put aside, feeling his heart expand with love instead. And the thing is, Louis is just standing there, right, not filling up the room with brash words and unbound laughter, not making people pleased with jokes or grand gestures, not wowing an audience of fans.

No, he’s just there, soft in a navy-blue sweater that belongs to Harry, hair all mussed up and spiked with bed-head, light stubble on his cheeks for not shaving the past three days, cheekbones sharp, morning light bouncing off of it, lips wet from his second cup of tea, the tips of his fingers barely passing the edge of the sweater, mug a bit too big for his hands, eyes sleepy and squinty, just all around soft, soft, soft.

And Harry is in love. Harry wants to make love to him.

Shit. Where did that come from?

‘’Oi, I got a word ready,’’ Louis says, bouncing on his tiptoes before thudding back on his feet. His voice makes Harry blink back to reality. ‘’You done with your turn, Harold?’’

Harry blinks, wonders if Louis is being blank on purpose to make it seem like he hadn’t caught Harry staring or that he actually hadn’t noticed Harry drooling over his tiles. Harry swallows then looks at his tiles. Shit, what word he wanted to form again?

 

He loses the game shamelessly. Louis demands for round 2 now that he’s got the ball rolling in his court. Harry embarrassingly loses that one too.

 

He wonders if he’s being subtle after that. Or if Louis is just clueless to his hints and smooth –or rather clumsy advances, even Harry himself can admit that, much to his very own dismay. That night, he’d laid his hand on Louis’ the entire time they had dinner, not letting go and handing Louis the salt shaker so that Louis doesn’t have to let go either. When Louis would talk, he’d rub his thumb across his flesh and when Louis would laugh, he’d squeeze his hand in encouragement, _laugh, babe, I love the sound of it, makes me happy_. The blush across Louis cheeks doesn’t go away until half-way through the movie they watch afterwards and well.

One morning, Louis wakes up before Harry, his body clock kicking back into his usual routine and it works out for Harry really, because it gives him a chance to walk up behind Louis, wrap his arms around his waist and start peppering the back of his neck with kisses. They’re boyfriends, right? Nothing wrong with a bit of morning sweetness, is there? He just wonders what took him so long to realize that technically, there’s nothing wrong with what he’s doing, that as a couple, they’re allowed to do more than just cuddling on the sofa or falling asleep in one bed.

‘’Hey you,’’ Louis greets and Harry can hear the surprise in his voice. Harry hums, still sleepy and bones heavy, seeking warmth from Louis’ back, nuzzling into the nape of Louis’ neck, heart hungry and very appreciative of the span of skin beneath his lips.

‘’You sure are touchy this morning.’’ Louis chuckles. He doesn’t push Harry away as he fixes their tea but there’s something there that Harry cannot point out in his voice but can feel it in his body. Louis doesn’t tense up but Harry can tell that he’s gotten a bit nervous.

He straightens up then and Louis turns around in the circle of his arms, his mug between his hands, looking relaxed and happy. Seems like the right thing to do, to give him space. Harry will never tire of reading him right when needed.

‘’Morning, love.’’ Louis pecks his lips shortly and well.

 _Guess there’s no need for too much space_ , he thinks.

He relaxes too, hands intertwining at the small of Louis’ back.

‘’Morning,’’ he greets, voice all gravelly as is usual when he’d just woken up. He pecks Louis’ forehead and when he pulls back, he sees that blush again, the same shy blush from last night. Louis tries to hide it as he ducks to take a sip, looking up with wet, lovely lips smelling of Yorkshire tea.

Yup, his plan has got to go steady. No way he’s going to ruin this.

‘’Do you have plans for today?’’ Louis asks as he leaves the circle of Harry’s arms and sets his cup down. He doesn’t go far though; opts to sit on the counter before picking his cup back, pushing Harry’s towards him. Harry picks up his mug too, smelling cinnamon and moves to stand between the V of Louis’ legs. Louis seems surprised in a shy way and it’s just, is he being too forward, he wonders? Harry is trying to be smooth, he really is but Louis being adorably self-conscious is not helping his cause.

‘’Dunno.’’ He shrugs, taking a sip of his tea. He lands one hand on Louis’ left knee and keeps it there. ‘’Maybe later. I’d like to take you out for dinner if that’s alright.’’

Louis blinks, obviously not expecting that. Hell, even Harry didn’t know he was going to say that. But seeing that blush come out with full force now, it seems he is on the right track.

You see, here’s the thing. It’s been a while since Harry snogged Louis properly, the last being in the hospital and well, that wasn’t quite the setting Harry was going for and it really wasn’t a turn on at all, with Louis’s head bandaged and weeping all over him. Hell, even he was crying his eyes out. So, yeah, totally not romantic.

And considering the events that had taken place, Harry wants to be romantic with Louis. He wants to woo him, to shower him with kisses, with flowers, with dinner-dates, with sweater paws and warm cuddles, with scrabble games and ready-made Yorkshire tea. He wants them to focus on their relationship, for Louis to have a reprieve from his past. It sounds like a brilliant idea, really, one that they’ll both benefit from,

‘’Dinner? Out tonight?’’ Louis checks.

‘’Yeah. Not that I’m tired of cooking or anything,’’ Harry adds and its silly because Louis had been cooking too, adamant on them having balanced domesticity, even if Harry pouts at him for it. If he had his way, he’d take care of everything the way he wants to take care of Louis 24/7, do all their groceries, pay all their bills, clean the garden, the pool, do their laundry. Alas, Louis does not allow it, fierce on things being equal, which is so not okay –Harry wants to spoil him, damn it!- but, back to the main point.

The main point is that he wants to treat Louis tonight. Badly. Because who knows? Maybe when they come back home, Harry can remind Louis of the other benefits of being boyfriends, you know, rock his world with a perfect bout of snogging and a damn good amount of cuddling on the sofa and spooning. Man, the joys of spooning and waking up, warm and entangled with each other…

‘’Okay.’’ Louis drawls and Harry actually flushes. Not because of what his mind is procuring –because well, they were not dirty thoughts, he wouldn’t ever disrespect Louis in that way but still, spooning- but because he feels like Louis can see right through him, read his thoughts of wooing Louis with a candle-lit dinner tonight and going all out in full blast.

‘’Yeah? Is that a yes?’’ Harry delights, hopeful.

‘’Alright, why not?’’ Louis shrugs before he finishes is tea in one go. He sets his cup aside then leans back on his palms, looking at Harry with happy eyes. Harry does not zoom in momentarily on the spread open of his legs. He does not. Fuck, where are his manners? It’s not even 10 am. ‘’What do you have in mind?’’

Harry rubs his knee as he thinks. He takes a long sip then finding his tea a bit lukewarm, he finishes it in one go then sets his mug aside before placing both hands on Louis’ knees. He feels a shiver and wonders if he’s left the living room window open.

Damn, it’s really getting cold now, he thinks. While Harry tends to get a sniffly nose from the cold, sneezing all over the place, Louis tends to get high fevers then loses his voice altogether from coughing roughly. Harry needs to make sure the windows don’t stay open for too long and that the heating’s regularly on from now on. He should also start putting honey in Louis’ tea even though he hates it. He shakes those thoughts at the expectant look on Louis’ face.

‘’I’m thinking I can book us a private booth at Rosso’s, say around seven?’’ Harry suggests. He hopes to God that the place isn’t fully booked. He hates pulling strings and using status to get his way.

‘’So, this is all a spur of the moment thing?’’ Louis asks, looking at Harry closely, tilting his head sideways. The collar of the peach-colored sweater he’s wearing is gaping, making his collarbones more prominent. Harry keeps a straight face and actually manages not to dive in and bite the living flesh off of his skin.

‘’Yeah, I mean, we can’t stay cooped up till our break ends. Might as well start going out at some point.’’ He says easily enough. He has been getting restless, fighting the itch to go out for a lap in the park or a couple of hours to the gym. Still, he’d choose to stay with Louis in though, any time, any day.

‘’True,’’ Louis agrees. He stays quiet for a second before he looks up at Harry from underneath his lashes. It’s not sexy, even though it could be, but there’s a guarded look in Louis’ eyes all of a sudden.

‘’I’ve never been on a date before.’’ He says quietly.

Harry is actually stunned from the admission. It’s. Well, it ought to have been expected, considering his past and being in an orphanage and whatnot, Harry can only imagine how dating was totally out of the picture for him. It makes Harry’s heart ache a bit and something more because as much as it pains him that Louis’ never been taken on a date before, never been treated for a nice meal and a good time, he’d also rather have no one else but himself have that privilege and geez, possessive much?

‘’Really?’’ he says, eyes wide.

‘’Haz,’’ Louis smiles bashfully, ducks his head a bit. He scratches the back of his head with quite an embarrassed flush to his cheeks. ‘’You’re kind’ve my first ever person to date.’’

And wow.

Like, wow.

Oh dear.

‘’Wow,’’ he says, eyes blinking, voice a bit breathless. All this time, he never knew. All the time they’d ever talked about relationships, it had been Harry talking about prom dates and childhood crushes, Liam talking about the number of girls he’d tried but failed to pick up in high school, Zayn talking about that one girl he stood on a yellow-pages book to kiss, Niall and dating the exchange student from France.

Not once did Louis ever breech the subject. No wonder he’s nervous. No wonder he can’t look Harry in the eye now, hunching over with his hands in his lap.

‘’Yeah, so.’’ Louis clears his voice before he looks up at Harry, with a hopeful look in his eyes. ‘’Make it worth my while, yeah?’’

And oh dear. Harry feels his chest expand again. He feels butterflies bursting between his ribs, birds chirping inside his ribcage because this boy is so precious. He’s going to make Louis his entire world.

He doesn’t bother with an answer. He goes for Louis’ lips and kisses him long and sweet. His hands reach for Louis’ face so that he doesn’t fall back and bust the back of his precious head on the cabinet behind him. No, Louis is very important and he will not cause him damage.

‘’I promise you,’’ he says when he pulls back before diving for another and another. Louis looks breathless and pleasantly flushed when he finally decides to let them both breathe. It’s a good look on him. ‘’This date is just the first of many, darling.’’

Louis’ pleasant smile is the best answer ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so so so sry, for those who already read this chapter, i just realized that i posted it incomplete so here it is, the complete one. cant believe i missed an entire section!!! wont happen again.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY IMPORTANT NOTE:
> 
> PLS READ THIS NOTE BEFORE YOU CONTINUE:
> 
> So, i realized i may have uploaded an incomplete chapter 26 and wen i looked back, to my horror, i realized thats exactly what i did. there are at least 3 paragraphs missing at the end of that chapter so pls, before you read this chapter, read chapter 26 again. i am so so so so sry for the confusion.
> 
> now, this chapter may be short but its an important prelude to the coming chapter which i have to say, i will post a little later than my usual. but anyways, massive thanx for the continuous support and the delightful comments. enjoy!

_''Good morning and good night_   
_I'll wake up at twilight_   
_It's gonna be alright_   
_We don't even have to try_   
_It's always a good time.''_

_Carley Rae Jepsen_

 

-So they go to Rosso’s that night and then to a Mexican place the night after, then an Indian restaurant the night after that. Louis complains he’s spending too much money on him and insists on paying half the check every time. Harry only lets him because after the first time, Louis pouted all night and refused adamantly to let him pay for the cab so on nights two and three, they’d split everything up like they weren’t boybanders with huge raking bank accounts. They go for ice-creams dates, for walks around the park, for movies. They go to a low-key art gallery, the London eye and a couple of Man United matches. They even go to an Olly Murs concert where they hid in one of the balconies and kept throwing pieces of paper over the audience and laughing at people’s reactions as they ducked down just for the hell of it and many more dates because once Harry started, he cannot seem to get enough. Even just joining Louis for a trip to the supermarket makes his fucking day.

It’s a bliss, being in their own world and getting to talk about happy times. Louis is ever the wonderful listener but in the mood the classy restaurants have them in, Harry was treated to a few stories out of him from his past, stories about customers from his time working in Toys R us, jokes he’d shared with Stan and Hannah while flipping burgers, matches he’d managed to watch live when he could spare the day off.

It’s not that Louis does not tell him things. He does but it’s always guarded, always after coaxing from Harry or the boys, and never this loose or relaxed. It’s nice to see Louis sharing, nice to not hear the sound of his own voice all night even though Louis had told him many a time that he could listen to him talk all day and never be bored.

After ten days and so has passed of non-stop dating, Niall gives Harry a call and invites him and Louis and the other boys for a night out at a club. Louis usually takes a while to be convinced to go out to a night club, says he doesn’t like the dark lights or the cramped space and as always, Harry does his best to coax him into it.

You see, it’s not that Louis doesn’t like hanging out with them, he does. It’s the only reason he goes out to these clubs in the first place, when he’s with familiar people. Harry suspects though, that Louis doesn’t deal well with closed spaces and in a night club, it’s easy to get swarmed in the sea of people and heavy bass of the music. Harry won’t ever let him be alone though and neither will the boys. They know about Louis’ wariness to club settings so they tend to alter shifts so that all can spend a lovely time together. He also wants Louis to meet new people and enjoy the company of new faces. It makes him sad when he sees Louis too reserved, just sitting back and enjoying the sight of the boys having fun while he sits in a corner like a concerned mom.

Tonight is like any other night when a night club is involved; Louis just doesn’t feel up to it and well, Harry wants to see the boys but he wants Louis with him. The past couple of dates he’s brought him to have been particularly amazing. Seeing an almost sport-crazed Louis at the Man united match cheering like a mad man and then a goofy Louis at his side at the concert then later on at their home, a comfy, relaxed side to him has made Harry crave for more. Their date nights have been filled with wonderful stories, always ending on the couch with a cuppa, Louis’ voice blooming softness in his heart, and ending with passionate kisses, quiet giggles and octopus cuddles but nothing further and well, maybe it’s all a lead up to that. He wants to take things slowly with Louis, one step at a time and maybe, just maybe, tonight’s the night. But Louis is being adorably difficult.

‘’I’ve got a book to read, love.’’ He says warily, for the like the hundredth time, refusing to move from the bed. He’s got his black-rimmed glasses on and he’s sitting up against the headboard, mounds of blankets hiding his torso and a thick book in his lap. Harry wants to take a picture of him and frame it. Those glasses always make him go a little weak.

‘’The book can wait, you know.’’ He points out. He’s busy laying out clothes for Louis to wear, clothes he knows he likes to don on a night out because they scream comfort. He’s also picking up stuff for himself to wear, asking Louis if it’s a go or not.

‘’I like that white shirt,’’ Louis says when Harry pulls it up to his chest and look at the mirror to check himself out.

‘’What? This one?’’ Louis nods. ‘’What about the navy blue shirt?’’ he picks up said shirt and holds both items of clothes up for Louis to see. They’re both plain but the white is long-sleeved and loose and the blue has a deep scoop to it and a little tight. ‘’What do you think?’’

‘’Hm,’’ Louis contemplates. ‘’I like the scoop neck on the blue one but the white is more practical.’’

‘’Because of the sleeves? I’ll wear a coat, Lou.’’ Harry chuckles because Louis is being a mother hen. Again.

‘’Well, in that case, I’ll go with the scooped shirt.’’ Louis concludes before going back to his book.

‘’Hey, none of that,’’ Harry pouts. He throws the shirts on the bed then sits on the edge by Louis’ side, plucking the book away. ‘’You’re supposed to be changing, you know? The boys will be here in an hour.’’

‘’I don’t want to go.’’ Louis pouts.

‘’Love, don’t you want to see the boys? It’s just one night.’’ Harry reasons. ‘’We don’t often spend time together on our breaks and when we’re on tour, it gets too crazy to go out sometimes, you know that. I just think it would be nice, you know?’’

‘’I do want to see the boys. I’ve missed them a lot.’’ Louis voices.

‘’Well, there you go.’’ Harry smiles.

‘’Do I really have to go to a night club though?’’ Louis asks for the umpteenth time and well, it makes Harry worried.

‘’Lou, we can always ask for the exclusive section. Those are always more private and roomier, you know this.’’

‘’Yeah, but…’’ Louis doesn’t continue, brow furrowed. Now Harry is genuinely worried.

‘’Lou, are you sure you’re alright? If you’re not feeling well, just say so.’’ Harry says, placing a hand on the side of Louis’ delicate neck. He’s not feverish so that’s a good thing.

‘’No, I’m fine. I just really want to finish this book.’’ He chuckles. He sounds sincere enough.

‘’Well, you can bring it with you on the ride there and I promise I won’t have Niall tackle it out of you.’’ It’s happened before. The boys always tease Louis when he’s reading on a night out, saying he’s such a nerd. Harry threatens to beat them up if they dare say another word about it.

‘’Promise?’’ Louis smiles, leaning in on Harry’s touch. Harry cradles his neck and smiles; knows he’s yielded.

He stretches for a kiss, pressing the book to Louis’ chest. ‘’Promise.’’


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, this chapter is quite heavy. there's intense angst and dubious consent so proceed with caution.  
> this chapter was also inspired by two fics and credit goes to them for any similarity. They are:  
> A reason to believe in something more by sorcxita and Finding Heaven When You're Stuck in Hell by smuttythings. enjoy!

_“Love removes the world for you, and just as surely when it's going well as when it's going badly.”_

_Alice Munro, The Beggar Maid: Stories of Flo and Rose_

 

 

Okay, so the boys are drunk. They’re somewhere in London’s esteemed clubbing area. Zayn has been sneaking them drinks, going back and forth between their table and the bar because Louis refuses to do so. He’s the only one sober, as well as Liam but Liam is on his way to being hammered, dancing his arse off with some girl. Harry and Niall are goofing off too, teasing Liam and completely ruining the sexy mood Liam is trying to go for. Louis cannot help but laugh. Zayn is somewhere at the bar, sneaking back more drinks while he sits in their booth with a good view of the dance floor.

It’s quite the rowdy atmosphere and well, he is a bit uncomfortable, sitting by himself while he waits for Zayn to return. He likes to party, don’t get him wrong but he wants to finish his book so he has to remain sober and it’s quite dark and not exactly the right time for it. Also, it’s only fun when the boys are with him and keeping him company, which of course is not fair so when they hit the dance floor, he honestly doesn’t mind, it’s their right to go and have fun. Not to mention that Zayn is not really the big party type and aside from his drinking rendez-vous, has been keeping him company.

Their body guards are not with them though so Louis keeps his eyes alert. It had been an impromptu decision on Niall’s part to go without them trailing their every move and while Louis doesn’t mind their security not breathing down their necks, he wouldn’t actually mind their presence at the moment. Since Zayn went to the bar 10 minutes ago, at least three people have approached him, none of which were exactly fans but merely people trying to chat him up and well, he isn’t single anymore, has a lovely boyfriend and all that jazz but trying to come up with reasons other than that considering it’s a secret and all and lying to these people is not really cool. The whole night is just not working for him. But he smiles when he sees Harry and Niall twirl around each other, catching his eyes as they laugh and prompting a laugh out of him. Out of his peripheral vision, he sees another person about to march his way, seeming unaware of the people Louis had already turned down before him and it makes him sigh. He hopes the boys have their fill soon so that they could leave.

Harry is not really wasted. Nope, he doesn’t really drink his liver away on a night out like Zayn or Niall do but he does get high on excitement and adrenaline, gets drunk on having a great time and even greater people to be around, which in return, makes him cuddly. He’d goofed around with Niall, drank a couple of fruity non-alcoholic drinks, maybe four or five beers, he’s not sure but he’s not really hammered or plastered across the wall.

But Louis looks radiant all of a sudden so there must be something wrong with him if he’s only noticing this now. They’re in the cab Louis fetched for them and both he and Niall are draped over Louis, one head on each shoulder. He’s a bit squirmy because Louis is looking serenely out the window and not at him.

‘’Harry, stop pushing me away, geez, mate.’’ Niall says lazily, a red flush across his supposed to be white cheeks. His eyes are closed, about to doze off over Louis. Harry realizes that he’s been trying to push Niall’s arm off Louis’ waist so that he can wrap his arm around it instead. Oh yeah, he gets clingy too.

‘’No,’’ he says, petulant. Louis’ waist belongs to him not Niall. ‘’My waist. Mine.’’

Louis chuckles above him and he stops squirming to look up. ‘’Lou.’’ He whines.

‘’Darling, we’re almost home. Let him be, yeah?’’

‘’Okay,’’ he says, with a very aggressive pout and places his arm over Niall’s with a discontented huff. Louis chuckles again and pulls him closer, his lips grazing Harry’s forehead then finds purchase in his hair and stays there. Harry considers this a huge victory.

 

When they arrive home, he’d sobered up a tiny bit and well, he feels electric tonight. He’s been seducing, wining and dining his boyfriend for the past how many nights, his endeavors to give him more is not going to end now. He’s kissing the back of Louis’ neck while Louis locates his keys to open the door.

‘’Did you have a good time, Lou?’’ he murmurs, Louis’ neck a bit sweaty but warm.

‘’Yeah, I did. You?’’ Louis answers, letting Harry have his way but remains unresponsive, the way he always is when the boys are drunk or touchy and he happily just lets them be because there’s nothing to be done but to try and accommodate their whims.

‘’I did too. Still am,’’ he giggles as he stumbles in after Louis, hands solid on his tiny waist.

Louis sighs but he doesn’t sound put out, more amused than anything else. He takes off his shoes and coat then turns around and does the same for Harry. He’s quiet as they move to their bedroom with Harry talking his ears off about how much fun he’d had and being more handsy than usual.

Louis undresses him, taking off his pants and leaving him in his boxers and undershirt then tucks him to bed. He changes in their connecting bathroom and comes back with a glass of water for Harry. He edges on his knees on the bed as he brings the glass to his lips because Harry is too busy grabbing Louis’ hips and pressing his fingers into it.

‘’I like your hips,’’ he says when he’s done with the water. Louis sighs again and now it does sound exasperatedly fond. Harry can still detect it so maybe Louis is just tired.

‘’Thanks, love.’’ Louis says as he tucks in besides Harry. He pulls Harry into his side where the boy can rest his head on his chest while Louis texts the other boys to make sure they arrived home safely. Harry wants his attention though so he pushes the phone away and straddles Louis’ thighs.

Louis sits up, frowning and places a hand on Harry’s chest where the boy’s about to lean in and snog him, if his big hands on his shoulders are any indication.

He’s starting not to like the situation but at the same time, he doesn’t want to displease Harry, knowing that the boy is just being his usual sweet self, showering him with love, albeit pumped on excitement and demanding his attention. Nothing unusual from his Harry, just this forwardness is a bit maximized and he’d rather have it toned down.

‘’Haz, c’mon.’’ he tries. He shouldn’t be nervous if Harry wants to snog him while sitting on his lap. It’s completely harmless and his hands shouldn’t be sweating from it.

“Come here,” Harry says, eyes half open, cheeks rosy. He looks so beautiful all loose-limb like this, Louis can’t help but think. “Please,” he adds as an afterthought and maybe, just maybe, he should indulge him. Harry doesn’t wait for a reply, just goes for Louis’ lips with his tongue ready. Louis lets it be. He likes snogging Harry, he really does. He can let go of their positioning, he really can. But then Harry is reaching for the hem of Louis’ shirt and just, he’s a bit surprised more than he is opposed so when he pushes Harry‘s hands away, he wants to tell him that, wants to tell him to slow down but Harry looks at him with ruby lips, hurt.

Louis squirms under Harry’s steady gaze. “Harry, I don’t,” _I don’t want to hurt you_. “Look, I don’t mind at all, but just, let’s like.” _Let me turn over_ , he means. _Let me close my eyes and breathe first and then you can do whatever you want_.

But Harry doesn’t seem to hear the rest of the sentence. To him, Louis doesn’t mind at all. He smiles a small, pleased smile. He turns Louis’ hands on his wrist so that he is the one holding Louis’, thumbs brushing against the back of his hand. He leans in and places a soft, deliberate kiss on Louis’ neck.

Louis shouldn’t feel dread at that. No, he should feel excited, nervous shivers and not fear that his boyfriend is about to give him a love bite or holding his hands down. “w-what are you doing now?”

“I want to make you feel good. I love you.” Harry says all too sincerely and it’s so not fair to him that Louis is reacting like this, like Harry is about to rough him up because Harry’s words indicate quite the opposite.

Harry bites down on Louis’ neck and everything whites out for a second as he gasps unsteadily. He loses focus as Harry licks his neck up tenderly before he starts to nibble on the sensitive skin and so Louis doesn’t notice that he is fisting the sheets by his thighs and he certainly doesn’t notice when Harry settles his hand on the waistband of Louis’ sweatpants.

Before Louis can protest or recognize what Harry’s about to do, Harry’s hand presses on Louis’ limp cock.

Louis shudders. He’s breathing too harshly now.

“Feels good?” Harry does it again, with both hands now, a soft, open-mouthed kiss placed on the column of Louis’ throat.

He feels paralyzed. He’s going to be sick.

He worries for a moment that Harry will take things further, that he’ll go and pump Louis’ dick till he comes if he doesn’t say anything to stop it. Harry seems adamant to make this good for Louis, for their first time but it makes Louis want to vomit and that is so not fair to him. He tries to calm down, he tries to relax, because this may not end well for Louis but he can make it feel good for Harry, give him what he wants. After a brief more peppering his neck with love bites, Harry drifts to his collarbones.

Then, he actually pushes the sweatpants down under Louis’ dick and swipes his hands under the short legs of Louis’ boxers, cupping his penis. Louis’ eyes widen in horror.

“Fuck,” he gasps, his mouth gaping open. He feels like he’s going into shock, his knuckles whitening out.

Harry’s breathing hitches under his chin as his hands move. “Wow, you feel so good.”

It hurts emotionally more than physically when Harry starts to fondle his balls, starts to squeeze his shaft - it’s been a while for Louis – and his body remembers many a horrifying night even if his brain hasn’t caught up yet. He can feel it though, trying to rise up from beneath the mounds of memories he’s buried. He breathes through it and the discomfort is almost worth it to have Harry close and to hear the sweet sounds Harry is making, because Harry is also touching himself now, both their dicks close. The words he mumbles into Louis’ ear are filled with awe and sweetness and Louis doesn’t knows if Harry really means any of them or if it’s his drunken-induced haze caused by four to five beers that’s talking.

‘’Is this- is this okay?” Harry asks and before Louis could understand what he means, he feels Harry nudge his own, very naked dick with his.

“I…” Louis gasps, speechless. Harry misinterprets this for Louis being turned on, no doubt because instead of pulling back, he leans up and kisses Louis’ trembling lips with his confident, smirking ones. Louis concentrates on that, latches unto it because kissing is safe, kissing is nice, and if he tries to focus, he can be assured that all this is Harry being a good boyfriend and not some ghost from his past trying to suffocate him.

Harry kisses Louis’ lips all gentle, eager and determined, his hands never still as he rubs their dicks together. Louis tries to relax, tries to lower his bunched-up, rigid shoulders, almost pressed against the shell of his ears, tries to be a good boyfriend and reciprocate. He’s supposed to feel good, to be excited and giddy about their first time together, not frightened and horrified. He reaches out a shaking hand and touches Harry’s shoulder, strokes it across Harry’s neck and the plain of his shoulder, trying to assure them both, himself more like, that this is good, normal even, that this is _his Harry_ , who won’t hurt him. He holds back his flinch when Harry’s tongue digs into his mouth, pushing his head against the wall above the headboard.

“Haz…” his lips are trembling and his free hand is shaking so badly that he’s worried he cannot actually still it anymore and suddenly Harry pulls away, stilling his own hands on their dicks.

“It’s okay,” Harry says with a smile. The lights are off so Louis can’t exactly see him clearly but he can hear the smile in his words and feel his hands and his lips as they press a kiss that’s supposed to be assuring to the corner of his mouth. “I know you want to take things slow and I won’t like, we won’t go all the way tonight, I promise but like, we can do this, yeah?” He stops to squeeze their dicks as an indication.

Louis stares helplessly at him, tries not to cry and focus on the need and the longing he sees in Harry’s eyes, the love that is genuinely there. Harry doesn’t know how much more worse he was hurt and with the marks on his back that he had shown him, there’s no way he’d ever guess it, probably thinks the marks were the ultimate hurt and that nothing further exists beyond that because Louis hasn't said anything, hasn't indicated anything more. And perhaps it’s better that way, because maybe if he did know, Harry would not be cuddly with him anymore, would be wary of him, careful like he’s porcelain, afraid to touch him.

The answer is inevitable.

He nods helplessly, slipping into silent horror at what’s about to happen and Harry smiles. For the first time ever, he wants to mute Harry’s smile.

‘’Okay,’’ Harry says, trying to stifle his excitement. He sits back and takes only his shirt off and the reprieve he gets from Harry’s hands no longer on his dick is momentary but it’s everything, like a breath of fresh air. Harry grips fistfuls of his hair and that air is gone, because Harry kisses him with renewed passion.

‘’I love you so much,’’ he says, words breathed into his mouth

“Thanks,” Louis says, trying to be nice. His voice cracks a little but Harry doesn’t seem to notice as he sits back on his heels.

‘’Tell me when you want to come, yeah?” Harry’s hands push his boxers and sweatpants down further. “Want to watch you come.”

“Haz,” Louis says in warning when he sees Harry bend but it’s too late, Harry’s mouth surrounds his dick.

Louis startles and tries to move further into the headboard but Harry holds his hips down, probably mistaking it for Louis wanting to buck up into his mouth which Louis probably did so by accident.

‘’Sorry.” Louis turns his face away because now he’s definitely going to cry.

“It’s okay,” Harry says breathlessly, not looking up as he dives in again. His hands on his hip bones look huge and unforgiving and Louis has to bite his wrist so as not to scream.

Harry slurps and makes these noises that are supposed to turn him on and he tries to focus on the beauty of Harry’s lips on him, on the heat of his mouth. So he stops biting his wrist and lowers his hand. Harry is working so hard to rouse him up and half-way there, it starts to work. He bucks his hips up but it’s an instinctive move, something he doesn’t really have control over and he feels so ashamed. He hates that he cannot enjoy this. Harry moans loudly, pushing down further, a solid weight on his legs.

He feels trapped, stuck between wanting to give Harry the reaction he’s seeking and kicking him off the bed, off his torso at least. He’s stuck in his own thoughts that he doesn’t notice when Harry comes up for a breather and starts kissing the vein on the side of Louis’ hard –Louis shockingly realizes- cock.

“You’re so amazing.” Harry whispers, voice dazed and lustful. “I‘ve wanted this for so long.’’ He brings his fingers to Louis’ balls and plays with them. “I feel so lucky to have you. I want to make you feel good all the time. You deserve this, baby.”

It feels like Harry’s weight is on his chest about to crush his collarbones, on his stomach about to squeeze his intestines and not his thighs; he’s so heavy, trying to grind his skull and drown him under the iron weight of his words. Louis is crying now, tears running down silently as he tries to gasp for breathe but keep Harry unaware of his predicament. He bucks his hips again but now it’s because he wants it to end already. Harry holds his dick with reverent hands and sucks on the tip, alternating between kissing and nibbling.

“You have no idea how good you are, Lou, how much you deserve this. How much I’ve wanted to do this, for so long. I know you’ve had it rough but we can fix that together. We can go through anything because I know it’s going to be alright as long as we have each other. I’ll never leave you, I love you.”

His mouth dives in again, like he was aching for Louis’ dick like air. He sucks hard and Louis’ vision whites out for a moment, blood roaring in his ears with words that do not belong to Harry.

“Let me turn over,” he croaks as his final resort. He’s crying and soon, Harry will look up and find out. “You can eat me out, Haz. Please, c’mon.” _Please, don’t look at me. Please, don’t see me cry._

Harry’s head shoots up and Louis takes the chance and flips over hastily so Harry doesn’t see. “No, Lou, are you, are you sure? That’s too soon, I…”

Louis’ choice of words is shocking to say the least. They’ve never gone all the way, let alone ventured on doing something kinky like that. Surely he’s heard Louis wrong so he leans in to ask, to make sure.

His huge hands land beside Louis’ head. They box him in, looming over Louis like a menacing giant. His hand reaches out to stroke Louis’ back, probably just wanting to comfort him but it’s too much already, too much…

_He's not prepared for his dad cupping his bum cheeks, and it startles him as he tries to get to his side so he can brush him off. It’s a mistake because then his dad’s hand winds around his waist and pulls him in, his back to his dad’s chest. He tries to fight as his dad pulls down Louis’ pants. He reaches out but his dad knows what he’s about to do so he pushes Louis into the bed in a huff, putting his whole weight on him, trapping Louis’ flaccid cock in his fingers._

_‘’No,’’ he says, trying to buck his dad off because this is new. This has never happened before. But his dad never listens, not since the first time he’s started this, entering Louis’ room in the dead of night and startling him like this. He doesn’t want to touch his dad in that way like that very first night ages ago and he’s afraid of what it would be this time. Will his dad just hump his dick against his pants-covered bum till he comes and leaves? Will he make Louis touch him? Will he push his groin against Louis’ clothed one and come that way, his filthy beer-stinking lips stifling Louis’ breathe as he kisses him? At this point, all that would be fine but tonight, it’s not any of that. Instead, his dad grips the head of Louis cock then flings his dick around like some kind of play thing. Louis hears him chuckle into his ear as he continues playing with his dick like a rubber duck, making his mouth taste like vomit and his skin prick with fear._

_“Cute little thing,” he says, smiling into Louis’ neck. “Your dick’s grown up.”_

_Louis can only squeeze his eyes shut and bury his face into the pillow, mortified. His dad is playing with him like he’s having a good laugh with his mates when he’s playing cards and smoking cigarettes, wholly unperturbed by how utterly disgusted Louis is feeling, how he wants to rip his fucking skin off and burn himself in acid to be clean._

_“Please stop,” he chokes out, trying to buck him off again but the feel of his bum pressing back into his dad’s hard dick makes him gag so he stops, helpless._

_“Why? This is fun,” his dad concludes. The man starts nibbling on his neck, the stench of beer and something vile in his breath revolting. Louis can feel his slick thumb rubbing right over his slit. He's still mostly soft, but he knows that regardless of his terror and repulsion, it can't stay that way long. Maybe he should vomit, so that his dad will be revolted by him and walk away._

_“This feels so good, yeah?” the man breathes, his arm in a vice grip around Louis’ midriff, cutting of his air almost. “C’mon now, do me a favor in return. Be a good boy for daddy and get your pretty cock hard for me, yeah?”_

_Horrified tears squeeze from Louis' eyes as he lets his father turn him around to face him. He sits on Louis’ thighs and closes his hands on Louis’ wrists, pulling them together and moving his fingers to close around his own dick. He feels his head shaking, feels his body trembling apart. He hopes this day is not real. He hopes this is a nightmare that he’s about to wake up from._

_He hopes Leo cannot hear him, he hopes Leo is sound asleep but then when he looks at the door of his room, he sees it ajar._

_“Go on now,” he dad says, squeezing his wrists painfully._

_“Dad, please, at least close the door, Leo might…”_

_“No,” his father interrupts. “Get yourself off, now.” He demands harshly._

_Louis doesn’t bother to stifle his defeated sob as he drops his head back shamefully. With his eyes closed, he starts moving his hands slowly. He feels so humiliated. He doesn’t know how to do this, never has he done it before but he knows he has to; he has no other choice, no say in the matter._

_“There you go,” his dad coos, thumbs brushing the back of Louis’ hands in encouragement, holding his wrists in a steel grip as he watches his son wank himself. “My good boy.”_

_His lower lip wobbles and his eyes drip more tears as his dick starts to perk up. His father is impatient and soon there are four hands on his cock, two hesitant and shaky, two prodding and harsh. He feels himself get hard under his father's lustful, disturbing gaze. He wants to die. God help him, he wants to di..._

‘’Louis…’’

_“Spread your legs,” his dad lowers his head and whispers into Louis' ear, ignoring the fresh tears now streaming down Louis' face._

‘’Lou, please…’’

_Louis keeps his eyes closed as he shakes his head vigorously. He doesn't want to spread his legs, doesn't want to do this._

_“No, please,” he begs, opening his eyes because he can feel a finger prod at his hole and no, just no. His eyes beg the man not to do this to him._

_“Daddy just wants to touch, Louis,” his dad replies gently, coaxing, words dripping with poison. “Now spread them.”_

_Louis doesn't budge, crying harder, but trying to stay silent, biting his lip till it bleeds. His father doesn’t do any more coaxing, just pries his legs apart, pushing them open by the bent of his knees. Louis’ in too much to distress to let go of his dick, too focused on trying to stay silent for Leo as his dad sucks a finger wet once and touches Louis' hole with it. He has to bite back a scream because he hates this feeling of having no say, of being helpless, of his dad leering over him and touching him in such a private place. He feels violated, like he'll never feel safe again, like he’ll never be touched with tenderness or cared for gently ever again, like...._

‘’Louis!’’

Something in Louis just fucking _snaps_ , something that has him turning around, hitting Harry’s arm on the bicep straight off his back and so fucking harshly, if he were a knife, Harry’s arm would be sliced clean and flying across the room in a bloody gore. He’s pushing at Harry’s chest just as quickly, shoving him off the bed, hard. Harry, startled, loses his balance and tumbles off the bed and unto the floor, landing hard on his bum, eliciting a pained sound.

Louis scrambles back into the furthest corner of the bed from Harry, dragging the blankets to cover himself, pulling his legs to his chest, his arms over his head, burying his face into his knees. He’s crying, thick, mortified tears, and Harry is staring at him in wide-eyed confusion and dawning horror.

“Louis,” he begins, getting up on his knees as he approaches the bed, approaches Louis.

“Don’t!” Louis shouts, voice raw and painful from crying silently for too long. He presses further into himself, pulling the duvet quickly around him, blankets obscuring him from view, like that will somehow hide the fact that he has just pissed himself in terror, like the pungent smell won’t reach Harry, like it would make the whole thing go away, like he didn’t just fucking lose his mind over Harry touching him and making him hard. “Please, get away from me.”

Harry blinks in shock. He feels like he's going to cry. He can feel his skin pricking and he realizes he’s still shirtless. But the lump in his throat choking off his air takes precedent, the stinging at the back of his eyes intensifying from the sound of Louis’ mortified sobs. He's scared and he's confused and he doesn't understand what he has done.

"Louis, fuck, I’m so sorry," Harry mumbles, fighting to choke back a sob.

The sound that comes out of Louis is gut-wrenching, as he shakes his head under the blanket and continues to sob. ‘’No, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, just, God, just let me clean up. You can do whatever you want with me later, I’m sorry,’’ his voice breaks as he pokes his head out of his cocoon and looks at Harry helplessly. “I’ll do whatever you want or you me but please don’t touch me right now.”

“Louis, no!” Harry feels his eyes pool and his jaw clenches and unclenches, holding in a million questions. He looks stricken. “I won’t. No.”

“I’m sorry,” Louis says desperately, unable to stop sobbing. “I’m so, so sorry.” It’s Harry in front of him, he knows it is, but at the same time it’s not, it’s his dad kneeling on the edge of the bed about to touch him, about to wake him up to play with him, about to claim the private places of his body without permission, about to touch him with cold words and cruel hands, it’s his voice whispering dirty words twisting sinuously into his head, ingraining it into his memories that are shooting into his present from the past.

He feels the world crashing down on him once again.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an update! Enjoy!

_“But when the strong were too weak to hurt the weak, the weak had to be strong enough to leave.”_

_-Milan Kundera , The Unbearable Lightness of Being_

 

 

-Harry is sitting in their kitchen table. It’s verging on 3 am. The lights around the apartment flat are off. He didn’t bother turning them on, couldn’t find the strength to do so.

He’d rushed out to Louis that he’ll do anything to help him but Louis shouted at him to get out, wailed that he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe. What’s worse is that he really looked like he couldn’t, like Harry’s presence was both suffocating and terrifying him. Harry left the room in haste, afraid to be the death of him and dialed Liam’s number as quickly as he could. Unlike Niall and Zayn, he’s not a heavy sleeper.

It must have been some call because Liam arrived at their door in less than 5 minutes, breath ragged and sweaty, still in his PJ’s and a pair of ‘Woody from Toy Story’ fuzzy slippers. Harry had been pacing, trying to stifle the sound of Louis’ horrified sobbing and when Liam finally knocked on the front door, he’d just wrenched it open and pushed the lad upstairs to Louis’ room, with probably a very blurry explanation of what exactly happened, throat too clogged up with unshed tears.

Liam just went, rushed to the sound of Louis’ agonized sobbing.

More than an hour later and the silence that has finally seeped into the flat was enough for Harry to stop pacing and to slump in one of his and Louis’ kitchen chairs. He is still shirtless, wearing only sweatpants, his boner long gone soft. There was a hoodie on the back of one of the chairs. He doesn’t know who it belongs to, the room too dark to see nothing but the outline, but when he’d picked it up and put it on, he realized disappointingly that it’s his, not Louis’. So much for seeking comfort.

He’s been staring into space, waiting for something; answers, forgiveness, salvation maybe.

He just doesn’t know what happened. One minute, Louis was handing him a glass of water then a second later, he’s shattering and exploding into a million pieces. One minute, he’s praising Louis, showering him with the love he believes he deserves every ounce of and the next, Louis’ gone cold and is screaming his head off.

Harry's fingers are immersed in the thick of his hair, cradling his head, pulling the strands till he can feel his roots aching. How can he have been so stupid?

He wasn’t drunk, or at least he knows for certain that he was not hammered and therefore he had more than just a semblance of sobriety. He should’ve read the situation right, should’ve been more attuned to Louis’ body language, to his voice, to his facial expressions that he loves so much. Closing his eyes, he tries to recap, to think of every moment that happened between them, from the car ride back, up until shit hit the fan. He wants to pinpoint where it started to go wrong, when he should’ve stopped. Every sound he remembers hearing, every tremble he felt…Louis wasn’t like himself or maybe…

No, Louis was exactly himself which was precisely the problem. All the time Harry was kissing him, touching him, Louis was accommodating, playing along, going with the flow, letting Harry do as he pleased without any regard to his own well-being, to his own peace of mind. It’s so like Louis to be ever forgetful of himself, to be lovely and sweet to others that Harry finds it so grounding.

But what happened tonight is different because when Louis is like that, Harry makes sure to be the one to look out for Louis, to be the one to accommodate him, make him relaxed and comfortable because God knows Louis is shit at looking out for himself.

He didn’t do that tonight. He thought he was but he wasn’t.

In his attempts to make both themselves feel good, in his attempt to make Louis feel good enough to share a first time together, he had neglected to take Louis’ feelings into account, hadn’t realized the possibility that they were not on the same page. At all.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

His mind flashes, going back to those moments Louis’ lips had trembled instead of stuttered, how for all his kissing, trying to ease his nerves, he didn’t ease them into steadiness but instead made Louis more hesitant and shaky. He zooms in on the sounds that made him believe Louis was turned on by Harry’s touches, spurring him on to make this as pleasurable for Louis, or more so than himself. He thought he was doing such a good job and he couldn’t stop. Louis wasn’t stopping him so he didn’t stop. He couldn’t, he wanted it to so badly and looking back now, he cannot tell if what he had wanted was to make Louis feel good just as much as the lad had wanted it. For all that he though he knew about Louis, that even though they had never been that physically intimate before, he thought he knew he had this, had this immense belief that he is as attuned with Louis’ thoughts as Louis is to him.

He should’ve known. He should’ve fucking known!

 He bangs his forehead on the table, once, twice, tears unabashedly falling.

 It isn't enough, the guilt he’s feeling because he’s incapable of doing anything about it. Louis is not near him. Louis had shunned him away. Louis is in pain and he is not there, not close enough. He has this overwhelming urge to scoop Louis up from their bed and never let him go. He is terrified that if he doesn't tell Louis how sorry he is, he’s going to drown in the pain Harry had dunked him in, the pain Harry had caused, the pain he had sworn to protect him from.

‘’Oh my God.’’ he cries into the wood of the table. _What have I done?_ ‘’Oh my God. Lou.’’

 

-He falls asleep like that; head on the kitchen table, arms around his head. So when he wakes up, his back and neck ache and groan like rusty machinery trying to whir back into action.

He’s a bit confused at first, before it hits him, the events of the night before. The ache in his back almost dulls down compared to the weight sitting on his chest. His eyes are crusted over and his cheeks feel sticky. He looks around the flat, the quiet flat and he feels empty.

He has done this. He has brought on this silence. He is the cause of everything sad in his life.

He is the cause of Louis’ pain.

And he needs to fix this.

It grows on him and he feels himself slowly going insane with the need to be closer to Louis, to touch him in at least some way other than overbearing; to hold him close and gently to his chest and listen to his heartbeat, to shelter him from the storms and thunders, to right his wrongs and make sure Louis is taken care of. Harry is positive Louis is a forever thing and like every morning since he’d fallen in love with him, Harry is hungry to embrace him, starved to reach out and comfort him.

He gets up on wobbly legs, unaware of a blanket falling off his shoulders. He reaches the bottom of the stairs and is about to take a step when his eyes catch the sight of suitcases by the front door.

He stops mid-stride, brow furrowed and confused. Those look like his bags, the ones he uses when they travel. He doesn’t recall packing, thoughts racing on when their break ends. He’s getting more and more confused when he suddenly hears the stairs creak.

He looks up and finds Liam, holding a couple of his winter coats, looking like the dead.

‘’Morning,’’ Harry says hesitantly, after they’ve stared at each other for close to a minute. Liam snaps out of the blank look on his face until it morphs to just tiredness from a sleepless night. He descends the stairs until he steps in front of Harry.

‘’You need to leave,’’ he says quietly, with no accusation or bite. Harry swallows and tries to keep his breathing even because the suitcases are starting to make sense.

‘’Why?’’ he asks hesitantly.

‘’I know what you’re thinking but Louis didn’t explain,’’ Liam says first. He looks like he’s going to drop off at any moment and Harry feels guilty that he’d been made to stay up all night, handling the distraught state Louis was in all by himself, the distraught state that _he_ had caused. He wishes he could’ve helped but then again, he knows that he probably would have made it just worse by trying.

‘’Okay,’’ he drawls, a zing of fear zipping up his spine. He doesn’t want to leave his home, _their_ home but he wants Louis to be okay.

‘’So how about you then? Care to explain?’’ Liam asks, worn eyes burning with the need to know the truth. ‘’Because I think it’s downright absurd that our twenty-year-old band mate just wet himself for no reason at all.’’

‘’Liam.’’ Harry tries but the clogged tears are back.

‘’Or that he’d spent all night crying almost hysterically and non-stop,’’ Liam continues sharply. ‘’Even after I cleaned him up in the bathroom and changed the sheets, he wouldn’t stop. Not to mention that no matter how many times I’d managed to get him to sleep, he’d just spring up from one nightmare after another until he passed out around dawn on the bedroom couch because the bed fucking frightens him?’’

Liam’s last words lilt into an edgy question, like he is scandalized and shocked and honestly, Harry cannot blame him but God. He’d give everything he has and more to make the ache in his chest stop, to erase everything bad that’s happened last night. To rewind his actions.

‘’And then the first coherent thing he says to me is you know what?’’ Liam continues, his quick Brummy accent tamping down, ignoring the increasing paleness and distraught look blossoming across Harry’s features. ‘’”Get Harry out of here, I don’t want him to see me like this.”’’

 ‘’God,’’ Harry isn’t aware he’s crying until he shuts his eyes and folds in on himself, arm wrapped around his midriff. Tears splatter off his chin even as he covers his eyes with one big palm. His shoulders shake and his lungs feel like collapsing.

 ‘’So you need to leave,’’ Liam says, regaining control over his faltering voice, thrusting the coats forward in Harry’s line of vision. ‘’Because I have never seen him break apart like this and if this is what he wants, then I think we ought to respect that.’’

‘’No, I don’t want him to be left alone,’’ Harry looks at Liam pleadingly. ‘’Don’t do that to him. You can’t…’’

‘’I won’t. I’m staying,’’ Liam announces. He fishes out his keys from his sweatpants and offers them to Harry but Harry knows perfectly well that this offer is non-negotiable. ‘’Pack up some of my stuff, will you? You can stay at my place for now.’’

 So Harry takes the coats and the keys as he continues to cry in silence, even after Liam helps him haul his suitcases towards the flat two doors from his and Louis’ in their private complex, going past Zayn’s and Niall’s.

‘’Tell him I’m sorry,’’ he croaks out before fresh tears overflow his already drenched cheeks. He feels pathetic, throwing himself on Liam at the door as soon as the suitcases thud on the wooden panels of Liam’s living room. He feels cut open, spliced to his very core because he’d promised, didn’t he? He’d promised to never leave Louis and yet, he’s doing exactly that and he feels wretched.

‘’I will,’’ Liam says, too tired to push and ask the way he would if he were alert and focused, freshly awake from a non-fitful night.

His assurance is not enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so with x-mas and new year's festivities coming, not to mention that my mom's b-day is on new year's eve, it will take me a while longer than usual to update so be patient with me and hope to hear from u all soon. all the love xoxo


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i honestly couldn't wait to update so here it is. i hope it is satisfactory. merry Christmas, everyone :D

  _“The small pulse of the life within me and the great heart of the city around me seemed to be sinking in unison.”_

_Wilkie Collins, The Woman in White_

 

 

-It’s been a week. Their break ends in five days and the day after, they’re doing BBC radio 1 before catching a ride to Manchester to do a festival performance. There’s so much coming their way; promoting their second album performances, interviews, radio shows, the iTunes festival, their second single, the royal variety performance then Madison Square garden then a charity single and the list is endless.

 But it all feels like there’s an empty future lying ahead.

 Harry has given up on sleep. Even though he’d barely gotten out of bed the past few days, save to take care of nature’s call, he still cannot close his eyes long enough to drift off properly. Sleep won’t come, no matter how many times he tells himself that all this is just temporary.

But it’s been a week.

He’d tried everything he could to be as patient as he possibly can; did yoga, went on runs, walked around the park, drank soothing, warm drinks to help him sleep but even a gallon of herbal organic tea won’t calm the erratic, insistent thoughts in his head. He’s scared to sleep; scared of what he might see when he closes his eyes. But at the same time, scared of seeing what is gone once he opens them again.

He’s also scared that he’s away from Louis, and he does something about it on the fourth day. Niall had gone to Ireland two days after that dreadful night so his house, the one right next to his and Louis’ flat, is empty. He stays there instead of Liam’s, even after Liam finds out and keeps giving him this disapproving sighs whenever Harry calls him to check on Louis, like now, after Harry’s third call of the day.

‘’He’s not well, Harry. How many times do I have to tell you this?’’ Liam says impatiently, and Harry understands, he really does but it’s been a week and honestly, he’d tamped down his phone calls from almost ten to just calling three times a day, once before every meal because he doesn’t want Louis to starve himself like he did during those three days on tour. He also just doesn’t know what to do with himself anymore, sick and tired of having to sit down for a meal by himself when he used to have a dainty, lovely figure sit next to him.

‘’Please tell him I’m sorry again. You’ve been telling him, right? I’ve been sorry every day, Liam. I’m sorry…’’ he feels like a broken record. He’d been saying those exact same words for the past week, crying them out when he’d tried to visit the night after the incident only for Liam to block his way through the front door and order him to leave at once. How did it come to this, to the point where he is not even allowed entrance to his own house, let alone speak to Louis on the phone?

‘’He knows, Haz. I promise you he knows.’’ Liam interrupts, exasperated. ‘’But you’ve done quite the damage, whatever it is that you did…’’

‘’I’m sorry,’’ he repeats, crying on the kitchen floor with a spatula in one hand and his phone in the other because he’s sick of this, sick of making a one man meal, sick of the gaping hole in his chest.

‘’Look, I’m sure it will be better when promo comes around.’’ Liam offers. ‘’You know, being professional and all that will surely bridge the gap or whatever.’’

‘’I don’t want that, I want my boyfriend back, not just my band mate.’’ Harry snaps.

‘’Well, your boyfriend’s fucking hurt, you dimwit, get that through your massive head!’’ Liam snaps back, words vicious. ‘’You of all people should’ve known better, you of all people…’’

‘’Stop patronizing me!’’ Harry yells. ‘’I know, okay? I know, how many times…’’

‘’Then accept what you’ll get, Harry. Christ, I’m tired of this.’’ Liam interrupts and Harry worries about the number of times Liam, the sensible member of the band, has actually lost his patience on him. ‘’If he doesn’t want you back then that’s what you’ll get.’’

‘’Are you…’’ Harry feels a knot growing in his throat. His fingers go lax around the spatula, the sound of the instrument scraping Niall’s kitchen tiles doesn’t matter though. ‘’Is he breaking up with me?’’

‘’I don’t know, Haz. I didn’t say that. But I think it’s obvious you both need the space, alright?’’ Liam says softly.

‘’But it’s been a week….’’ Harry croaks out.

‘’And if he fucking needs more, you’ll fucking give it to him, understand?’’ Liam snaps.

Harry is speechless. He didn’t see this coming. He thought he’ll be able to fix this, that he’ll beg Louis’ forgiveness and be given the chance to make amends and get Louis back but not this, never this.

‘’I have to go.’’ Liam says quietly. He hangs up when Harry says nothing.

 

-It’s a blur of days, mashing up like mismatching colors, all wrong and depressing to look at. He stops calling, finds that the more Liam snaps at him, the more he feels heart-broken and if Louis actually does break up with him, there won’t be anything left, Harry fears.

Waking up is hard on the last day of their break, just as hard as it was the day after the incident. He wakes up groggy and tired, bones weary, chest heavy. Out of habit, he’s reaching for Louis before remembering he’s not there. A few tears slip out at that, soaking into the pillow because it’s been more than a week and the contrast of what he had to what he has now is too much. Harry does his best not to think about the very real possibility that he has ruined the best thing in his life.

Silently, he slips on his sweatpants and shoes, puts on a massive jumper and after a second of thought, gets out of bed. He doesn’t bother with breakfast, just walks out the door for a walk around the nearby park. It’s a little before 5 am but that’s okay, he’s gotten used to it. He used to go for runs before, trying to burn his lungs into oblivion because if Louis can’t breathe then neither should he but since he’d stopped with the phone calls, he’d been unable to do much but just walk and think, think and walk.

The streets are empty except for those with early morning shifts, headed for bakeries and cafes, or going home after a long night of travelling. The weather is foggy and cold, quiet save for his footsteps so there’s plenty of room to think. And maybe it’s masochistic to do this to himself but if Louis’ hurting, then so is he. He has to hurt too, can’t let Louis be alone in this.

His thoughts go from how fond he would be if Louis were with him right now, all grumpy from having to go out for breakfast rather than cook up a home-made meal, trying to control his laughter when Harry would crack a lame joke in an attempt to cheer him up then letting all the fondness light up his face when Harry wouldn’t shut up, stubborn as a mule as he tries to turn Louis into the bundle of energy he knows he can be.

Harry misses his little comments about everything he says, looking at Harry with his soft blue eyes. Harry’s never seen eyes so blue, they make him wish for drowning. He’d never felt more invincible and confident within his own skin than when Louis is looking at him like Harry’s saving him just by existing.

Then in a moment of weary stagnation, his thoughts shift to the agony in Louis’ voice that night and how he’d shouted at Harry to leave. It hurts to hear it in his head and the coiling dread is back. Louis might never look at him fondly again, not after what he’d done, what he’d caused. Louis might not even talk to him again, might actually break up with him. Harry sadly can’t deny he’s got the right and he hates the thought so much he can barely indulge in some worst-case scenario but he does it anyway.

The pain is a relief at this point, rather than this whole encompassing numbness. They won’t stand next to each other on stage for one; if Louis doesn’t want to sit next to him during interviews, then Harry will have to comply. He’ll take the fall too when it comes to facing the boys because he’s quite sure Liam will not keep this to himself, much to his dismay. Louis is innocent though so it’s fine; he’s the one at fault, not Louis.

He gets tired of walking and goes back to Niall’s flat, even though his feet automatically carry him close to his doorsteps before he remembers his place (pun fully intended but not so funny, he thinks). He goes in, takes a scalding shower before getting faced with the predicament of needing to find something to do. He picks up his phone to check his messages before he changes his mind and checks his calendar, just for the hell of it and sees a notification of Niall’s flight time. Realizing that Niall will be back by nightfall, he decides it’s time to do some cleaning.

It’s mind-numbing as it is cathartic, keeping busy with washing the sheets, cleaning up the kitchen, packing what sparse things he’s got. When he’s all done, he realizes he’s hungry. He picks up his duffle bag and one suitcase, locks the door and heads back to Liam’s before he orders pizza, too lazy to cook, aware that he cannot stand the thought of fixing something up without Louis sat on the counter, watching him and talking to him.

He puts on the telly while waiting for the pizza but no matter how loud the volume can get, it still feels like he’s going to rip off his skin, just sitting there and not doing anything but letting his mind wander. He turns off the telly in a huff, and gets up to make tea, just for the hell of it.

While the kettle boils, he checks his phone again and accidentally hits gallery instead of camera- he is not even ashamed at this point to take a picture of the kettle and post it on instagram, just to keep busy reading what the fans would say.

The first picture that pops up in his gallery is that of a scrabble board, displaying the last game he and Louis played. Louis’ hand is in the photo, placing a tile on the board and Harry remembers that game, remembers how Louis had looked sitting next to him on their kitchen table, soft and wrapped up in an over-sized hoodie. It’s not going to end well going there, knows he’ll just break even more if he calls Liam again so he locks his phone and goes about to make his tea. He’s so mentally and emotionally adrift though that he automatically makes a second cup for Louis. Upon realizing this, he cries over the mugs because he’s just had it. He dial’s Louis number in a bout of emotion, just going straight for the punch. The ringing of the phone is accompanied by his little sniffles, trying to stay quiet, trying to stay in control because if Louis does pick up and he hears Harry’s voice crack, it wouldn’t be fair because he knows Louis caves so much quicker, turns soft and accepting if he thinks Harry’s hurt or in desperate need of him, like he is now.

Louis doesn’t pick up and really, he shouldn’t be surprised. Now, he’s left with nothing but two mugs of tea and he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t throw Louis’ tea away, its Yorkshire tea after all (because even though he is at Liam’s house, everyone knows they ought to stock up on Yorkshire for when Louis is around). He can’t drink both cups either. He’s about to have a serious melt-down, actually lets himself fall apart over the sink just a little bit before the doorbell rings.

Harry snaps out of it, wipes the dampness from his eyes and goes to open the door. It’s the pizza and Harry, too frazzled and shaky, takes almost fifteen minutes trying to locate his wallet before he sends the delivery man off. The pizza smells good but he’s suddenly just not hungry.

In the end, he shoves the pizza and the two cups of tea in the fridge and decides to sleep his afternoon away.

It’s hard though, especially with the blinds open so he gets up and shuts them, dipping the room in grayish darkness. He tosses and turns, unable to get comfortable, manages maybe two hours of fitful sleep.

God, he feels absolutely wretched and just so painfully, horribly, hopelessly in love. Maybe if he didn’t love Louis so much to the point of blindness, he wouldn’t have made such a stupid mistake. Maybe, he’s really just dump and beautiful, like most people on twitter say, because if he’d been smart, he’d have been able to see what his touches were doing to Louis, how they were really affecting him. Maybe if he was smart, he’d have been able to focus on all the things he ought to have focused on and not let himself get blind-sighted by the intensity of his feelings and accidentally destroy the one person he loves most above everyone else. It’s no excuse, he knows it, to hurt the person he loves simply because of loving him so intensely he can’t breathe sometimes. So, he settles for staring at the ceiling, fueling this exhausted love and regret. He gets lost in contrite thoughts, spiraling between guilt and longing, aching for a second chance.


	31. Chapter 31

_''I knew it'd be 'See, you're leaving after all when you promised you wouldn't.' I knew it but I'm trying to explain anyway, okay? And I know you probably won't understand this either, but --wait-- just try to listen and maybe absorb this, okay? Ready?''_

_David Foster Wallace, Brief Interviews with Hideous Men_

  


 

-He wakes up to a repetitive knock on the door, loud and constant like a wood pecker. It takes him all he has to get up and answer it. The day before, after he’d settled for a crappy nap, he decided to watch movies until the arse crack of dawn and now he’s paying the price for it. He opens the door to Paul, the man looking put out and annoyed but slightly amused.

‘’Forgot to set your alarm clock then?’’ he says in lieu of a greeting.

Harry looks at him for a moment and realizes the man is right, he totally forgot that they’re supposed to return to work today, have to head for the radio 1 studio to do some interview and recap on the tour.

‘’How long do I have?’’ Harry asks gruffly.

‘’Twenty minutes,’’ Paul says before he heads back to one of two Black Ford SUVs. He wonders if Louis is in one of them and then realizes he’s standing in the doorway in only his boxers so he scurries inside and gets ready.

His hopes are crushed when he gets into the car Paul went for only to find Zayn and Niall in the backseat, Zayn dozing off, Niall on his phone.

‘’Morning,’’ Niall mumbles. Harry gets in when Paul gives him way then directs the driver to get a move on.

‘’Hey, you’ve seen Louis?’’ Harry says in lieu of returning the greeting. He turns around in his seat to try and peer at Niall, hopeful for any tidbit of Louis.

‘’Yeah, he and Liam are in the car behind us. They got picked up first.’’ Niall says disinterested, apparently still sleepy and stuck on his phone.

‘’How did he look?’’ Harry asks, undeterred. Niall stops scrolling down his phone and looks up at Harry.

‘’Liam told us,’’ referencing him and Zayn. ‘’That you two had a fight and that you’ve been staying at his place. Is that why you’re asking?’’

So Liam still doesn’t know what exactly happened but has told Niall and Zayn about the situation. So much for trying to find a shoulder to cry on.

‘’Yeah we fought, kind’ve.’’ Harry mumbles, then glances at Paul who quirks a look at him.

‘’Sucks, mate.’’ Niall sighs. Harry leaves him to it; apparently Niall is not too awake yet to freak out over this as Harry would have thought.

When they’re close to the studios, their car goes around the building to allow Liam and Louis to get into the studios first. It’s a tactic they’ve been following lately as getting the five of them in one place causes more mobbing than doing it in groups of two. But in this way, Harry doesn’t get to see Louis or even catch a glimpse of him. He’s so anxious he feels like jumping out of his skin.

When their car finally makes its turn, he, Niall and Zayn startle to the hoard of fans blocking the entrance to the BBC building and it’s like muscle memory; them smiling and waving, signing autographs and taking selfies.

When they enter the building, they head for the elevators to some floor, Harry isn’t sure where then they’re led into some sort of VIP waiting room. There’s a couch and a long table with breakfast food and drinks. Liam is sitting on the couch.

He and Harry make eye-contact before Liam gets up and greets him and the boys one by one with a hug.

‘’Back to work, ay?’’ he says cheerfully, and it’s like nothing’s changed. They talk a bit, standing in a circle. But Harry is anxious because Louis is not in the room which means he is going to pop in soon and Liam is being cheerfully himself and ignoring his side-way glances.

‘’Where’s Lou?’’ Zayn asks and Harry’s ears perk up.

‘’In the bathroom,’’ Liam answers, not looking at Harry. Zayn and Niall nod before they gravitate towards the food table, Zayn in search for his coffee and Niall for his breakfast, talking animatedly between themselves. This leaves Liam and Harry alone and honestly, Harry cannot take it anymore.

‘’How is he?’’ he asks quietly, arms folded, head bent down. Liam shrugs.

‘’He’s better,’’ Liam says kindly and his eyes look honest. Harry knows he’s not lying.

‘’Does he…’’ Harry hesitates, bites his lip before he just goes for it. ‘’Does he miss me?’’

Liam smiles sadly. ‘’I’m sure he does.’’

Harry is about to ask something else but then the door opens, revealing Louis.

And well. He looks good. He’s wearing a long sleeved striped multi-colored sweater and tight blue jeans, with a grey beanie on, one Harry is sure belongs to him. His heart aches at the sight of him, because Louis looks almost surprised when his eyes land on Harry, like he didn’t expect him to be there.

‘’Loueh!’’ Niall cries excitedly before he and Zayn bounce over and hug Louis cheerfully. Louis loses eye contact with him as he smiles at his band mates and returns their hug. Harry just stands there, observing him, reacquainting himself with what he’d missed out on. Not much has changed really, except that Louis looks like he hadn’t been sleeping much, if the dark under his eyes are anything to go by and his lips look chapped from being bitten into too much. The apples of his cheeks are pale and his scruff looks prominent, like he hadn’t shaved in three days or something. He still looks fucking beautiful.

‘’Hey Haz,’’ he’s startled at the sound of his name coming from Louis’ lips and realizes he’s been staring. Niall and Zayn are looking at him almost sympathetically, like they know how awkward this is. Liam is at the foods table and Louis is looking at him hesitantly, his arms look slightly funny at his sides, in a way that looks like he wants to hug Harry but are trying not to ask for it. Harry feels that ache again but he knows it won’t go away if he doesn’t take the two steps separating them, so he just goes for it.

He hugs Louis tight around the shoulders and just takes a whiff, his first proper inhale in what seems like forever, like he’s being hauled out from murky waters. Louis’ arms go around his waist and squeeze, not as tight as Harry is used to from Louis but close enough for a proper lungful of air to finally give him some ease.

‘’I miss you,’’ Harry whispers, eyes shut tight so that he doesn’t cry.

‘’Me too.’’ Louis tells him quietly. Harry doesn’t want to pull back but Louis does so he loosens up his arms, palms landing on Louis’ bony shoulders.

‘’Um, how are you?’’ Louis asks, voice small. He hasn’t changed a bit, still looking out for him first and Harry feels so much for him, he really does and wants to shower him in kisses but first, he’s going to listen; he’ll only ever do exactly what Louis asks from now on, he won’t repeat the same mistakes. He promises himself that this is right, that this is the noble thing to do. Even if promises are easy to be broken, it still makes him feel much better and less anguished, makes him feel like he’s being a good boyfriend because God knows if that’s going to last.

‘’Not so good.’’ He answers honestly. ‘’Miss you.’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Louis pauses then sighs. ‘’We need to talk.’’

Harry’s heart claws its way up into his throat. He tries to school his features into a politely neutral expression, but he knows that Louis’ noticed the change in him and is quick to backpedal. ‘’If that’s okay. Not like now but like later, after the show?’’

“Oh,” Harry tries to ignore the hurt that blooms in his chest because what difference does it make if Louis breaks up with him now or later?

“Sorry lads, I’d hate to interrupt,” Niall startles him, bouncing next to them, holding his hands up. “But we have to go; we’re live in 10 minutes.”

“We’ll follow,’’ Louis says, hands leaving Harry’s waist. Harry is only aware that they’ve been there because he feels cold immediately. The boys leave until no one in the room is left except them. The door is left open though and people passing by can see them but Harry doesn’t care. He takes his time to study Louis for a while. He looks warm and cozy in his thick sweater, and if it weren’t for the purplish bruises underneath his eyes and the tired, downward tilt of his mouth, he’d say he even looks relaxed. But he isn’t; he looks like he doesn’t want to do this but he has to because Harry is a fuck up and has to be cut loose. God, he hates himself so much.

“Lou,” Harry starts, waiting for Louis to allow him to speak. Louis’ expression turns guarded, eyes dim, cracked lips pressed into a firm line that makes Harry’s heart ache. Louis’ dainty hands go hiding in his pockets but he nods once. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I have more to say but that’s most important. I’m sorry. ”

Louis hesitates, “I know. We’ll talk about that, about all this.” He waves a hand aimlessly between them before returning it into his jeans pocket. ‘’But I know.’’

 

-The walk to the studio is silent and awkward between them. It’s hard, having Louis leave his side to sit between Niall and Liam and not next to him, not being able to touch him or whisper comments into his ear about the questions the fans send in. So he tries to immerse himself into it as a distraction, concentrates on the questions more than usual, gives a bit of exclusives about his day to day routine when asked instead of dilly-dallying around the topic. He laughs at the right times and smiles brightly when they take a selfie with Scott Mills, their interviewer.

It’s not long enough, the time he thought he had to push for the inevitable. He feels like a dead man, walking towards the guillotine. He is not at all comforted when Louis sits next to him in the car on their way back to the complex to pack up for when they leave for Manchester tonight. It feels like his skin alights with lava when Louis places his hand on his thigh and squeezes. It’s his comfort gesture but right now, Harry feels pitied. Still, he doesn’t move his leg or push Louis away. He’ll take what he can get.

Finally when they arrive at Liam’s place, Harry moves to get out of the car but Louis stops him. Right, they’re really doing this. Liam gets out, looks at them sadly then walks away. Harry feels like crumbling. Zayn and Niall get out too then it’s just Louis and Harry.

It’s quiet when they enter their apartment. Harry stands by the door, doesn’t bother to take off his coat or shoes or look at the flat. He wants to get this battle started, he wants to start fighting for Louis. Louis takes his time, hanging his coat and taking off his shoes before he turns to Harry.

‘’I don’t want to break up with you.’’ He starts. Harry’s eyes don’t give anything away. He knows there’s more.

‘’I just think we need to.’’ Louis continues; eyes steady and unblinking.

Harry’s eyes flinch, jaws tightening. For all that he’d been expecting this, he still feels like a dollop of cement had been dropped on top of his head. He swallows, tries to keep his voice calm, almost taking his time because he must not crumble, not yet.

“What can I do to change that?” he finally asks. “I’ll do anything, Lou. I…”

“I was trying to do what you wanted.’’ Louis interrupts. His voice is dead, his eyes hurt and glassy. ‘’Which I don’t think was fair to either me or you. Especially you. I’m sorry.’’ He wraps his arms around himself like he needs to be held together. Harry used to be able to do that but it’s been more than two weeks and now it’s going to be longer. Maybe never. The thought of it smarts.

‘’No, don’t be sorry. _I’m_ sorry. Lou…” Harry says helplessly.

“I just,’’ Louis interrupts again. His voice sounds choked before he swallows in order to speak clearly. It doesn’t work. ‘’I feel sane when I’m with you, like I’m normal and not exploding all over the place when you’re there. And it felt so good, you know, to the point that, it didn’t matter when I wouldn’t know how to be that without you. Basically, I’m lost without you, is what I’m trying to say but I don’t think that works anymore, not after…’’ Louis shuts his eyes before he blinks them open. He doesn’t look back at Harry when he continues, directs them to the floor instead. ‘’I feel lost either way now and it doesn’t feel good. And I don’t want to be lost like that. I -“

“Then let me fix things, Lou. You’re not even giving me a chance, Please.” Harry is so not above begging.

Louis looks at him in silence for a very long time, trembling in the shadows and somehow in charge of Harry’s heart, of breaking it or fixing it, it’s all up to him now.

In any other context, Harry wouldn’t mind leaving his heart in the palm of Louis’ hands. But to have it at the cusp of being squeezed into oblivion, he’s not sure how to feel about that, how to prepare for it.

Eventually, Louis shakes his head, eyes returning to the floor. “I don’t…For now, I don’t think I want to.”

There’s a ringing in his ears and maybe, just maybe he hears the squelching sound left from the vice squeeze he’d feared. There, in the palm of Louis’ hands, he’s bleeding out rivers and whatever he had to say gets dried up like flaking crimson on his lips. He just looks at Louis and tries to believe that this is all one, big, fat, terrible joke because Louis can’t mean that. He can’t honestly think he can do this to him.

“Babe,” he starts, trying not to sound heartbroken, trying to withhold the tremor in his voice and miserably failing.

“Haz, c’mon. What did you honestly expect?” Louis asks flatly and Harry is taken aback.

“What did I expect? I thought you trusted me to at least try and fix things. I thought you believed in me enough to give me a second chance. I’m not a prick, Louis. I love you. I’d never force you to do anything and you, you didn’t say shit, you didn’t stop me, you…’’ he knows he’s doing this all wrong, not being tactful at all, splattering his bleeding heart all over the place and he tries to backtrack, to do damage control but he knows he’s failing, knows he’s babbling like a lovesick fool. ‘’Louis, I love you. You acknowledged this. You know I love you, since the x-factor, Lou, I know I never told you that but it’s the truth and we’ve… we’ve been together for a decent part of the tour. We’ve been dating for almost the entire break. You...”

‘’No,’’ Louis interrupts, voice steel and stern.

‘’No, what?’’ he demands, hot tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

‘’No, you…you will not, you won’t guilt me into this.’’ Louis says unsteadily but firm.

‘’I, Lou, I’m not trying to, I’m not. I don’t do that to people. I’m not trying to manipulate you.’’ Harry flaps helplessly, voice incredulous that Louis would even assume that. He hates himself at what the situation looks like though, because if he steps into Louis’ shoes, he knows he’d say the exact same thing. But it’s unintentional, how it seems like he’s taking advantage of Louis’ kindness and vulnerability and he’s not but that’s how it looks like and he hates that. He hates that he’s coming on too strong and hitting all the wrong buttons too fast without a second thought.

‘’Okay,’’ Louis softens and Harry doesn’t want that; he doesn’t want Louis to unknowingly let him get away with things too easily. He wants Louis to know exactly what he wants and demand for it confidently, even if it will ruin him. Not to mention that that little okay sounds like fucking closure and Harry will take anything but that.

‘’Doesn’t change anything though.’’ Louis says, voice softer.

 

And Harry, well, he knows a losing battle when he sees one.

 

‘’Is this it then? This is still want you want? To break up? With me?’’ Harry chokes out.

‘’I said I don’t want that, I just think we need it, for now. Please respect that.’’ Louis tells him, eyes looking at Harry pleadingly.

 

And the thing is; it would be so easy to keep on fighting Louis' wishes if Harry wasn’t so fucking in love with him to let him go without a fight.

But he does love him so he lets him go.

 

“I… okay.” Harry hesitates. “Do you… do you hate me though?”

“For what you did, yes. I mean, at the time, yes.” Louis forces the words out quickly. ‘’But I know you didn’t mean it, H. I know there isn’t a bad bone in your body.’’ He smiles a thin one here before turning somber. ‘’And I should’ve explained myself, I know that much, which is why I think we need this break. I think we, I mean _me_ , I think I have a hard time communicating with you and look where it brought us, you know?’’

‘’Please don’t blame yourself,’’ Harry pleads. He’s the one who asked Louis to take his time so it shouldn’t be used against him.

‘’It’s best this way, you know. You’re not entirely at fault, Haz. I can acknowledge that.’’ Louis tells him logically.

Eons pass as they look at each other almost helplessly. Seeing Louis look lighter somehow, like the decision was already doing wonders for him, makes Harry back away even more, the fight draining from his pores.

He’ll always let Louis win, he supposes. Even now, that hasn’t changed.

‘’You’re smarter than you look,’’ Harry says with a small, almost teasing smile. In any other context, Harry would properly tease him but for now, he can only hope his intentions are clear, wondering if maybe they can really be okay. They were best friends first and that hasn’t exactly changed. They won’t be any less friendly with each other if he plays his cards right.

‘’I know,’’ Louis smiles back and he takes a deep breath and exhales, like he feels the exact same relief at Harry that they’re not biting each other’s heads off or something.

‘’We’re good then?’’ Louis asks after a while. The sun is finally ascending from underneath the dreary clouds and the rays streaming through the small window of the door hit Louis’ cheekbones, lighting him up into something almost ethereal. Harry doesn’t really want to give him up but Louis needs this and maybe, when he has time to let it all sink in, maybe he’ll realize that he needs this too, for Louis’ sake.

‘’We’re good.’’ Harry says, with a smile that doesn’t exactly reach his eyes but with genuine honesty in his voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just wanted to say that the break up is sooooooooo not permanent but considering the events leading up to it, i believe it was necessary. anyways, hope u enjoyed your new year's. all the love x.


	32. Chapter 32

_“The feelings that hurt most, the emotions that sting most, are those that are absurd - The longing for impossible things, precisely because they are impossible; nostalgia for what never was; the desire for what could have been; regret over not being someone else; dissatisfaction with the world’s existence. All these half-tones of the soul’s consciousness create in us a painful landscape, an eternal sunset of what we are.”_  
_― Fernando Pessoa_

 

-They pack up in silence, Harry taking his time more so than Louis because he has to sort out what he took with him to Liam’s and what he has in his room. When he’s done, Louis is already downstairs making lunch, bags packed and waiting by the door.

He wonders how hard this is going to be, how he can walk the thin line between wanting to be there for Louis as a friend and wanting to be there for him as something more. He stands by the kitchen door in his winter PJs, watching as Louis stirs the sauce and the pasta one at a time.

He is still a small little thing, with his narrowed waist and prominent hips, caramel hair wispy and all over the place. He’s so precious and Harry wouldn’t ever, not want to protect him, broken up be damned.

‘’Hey, you need help?’’ he asks as he shakes his head from his whirring thoughts and approaches the counter. Louis doesn’t startle, just smiles at him and turns off the burner for the pasta.

‘’Just need you to drain this,’’ he says. They work in silence as they prepare lunch then set up the table together. But the silence becomes stifling and Harry cannot help but ask.

‘’Did you tell Liam what happened?’’

Louis looks up at him, his fork in mid-air. He puts it down and looks at Harry.

‘’No, I just told him we had a fight.’’

‘’I see.’’

Louis keeps looking at him as he chews on his next bite before he swallows.

‘’I know you called him a lot.’’ He says carefully. ‘’Not that I eavesdropped or anything,’’ he adds. ‘’I just, I’m sorry I didn’t even text you or answer your calls. I just needed some space.’’

‘’No, I understand, I’m really sorry,’’ he feels faint just remembering an ounce of that night, let alone thinking of what Louis must have been feeling, knowing that Harry had called so many times but was in too much turmoil and in need of distance to do anything about it. ‘’I must have really disgusted you. I’m really, awfully sorry.’’

‘’No, Harry, it’s not that.’’ Louis looks desperate to make him understand. ‘’It’s not you, okay? On any other day, any other life, I would have been more than glad to reciprocate. Honestly, it was me, alright?’’

‘’Still doesn’t change the fact that I’ve hurt you,’’ Harry says, appetite gone. They’re obviously going to talk about it.

‘’I forgive you, love.’’ Louis tells him. ‘’Please, believe me. I know what intentional hurt feels like and that wasn’t you, okay? It would never be you.’’

It stings. The fact that Louis can say something like that and has proof to show for it hurts more than Louis cutting him loose with no time frame to match and Harry tries not to let it show, the anguish from what he had lost, what losing Louis’ faith in him feels like, but he’s pretty sure his face crumbles. Quickly, Harry attempts to compose his expression. He’s quite sure he’s only partially successful.

‘’You’re right. I won’t ever make that mistake again.’’ He says determinedly and he knows what he’s insinuating, that he’s assuming he’ll get Louis back after all this, but he doesn’t care. The only way he’ll survive this, is in knowing that he and Louis are strong enough to get over this hurdle and end up back together.

‘’I know,’’ Louis says, quietly confident in something Harry could only hope equates to something good.

 

-Five months later and Harry is no longer pining hopelessly. No, he’s gone past that, past desperation. Let it not be said that Harry Styles didn’t try his hardest when it comes to winning back Louis Tomlinson.

It’s not easy, walking away from your first love, especially when Harry is convinced that there won’t be a second flame for him, because Louis is it and he knows it.

But it’s been five months and Louis’ space has become a need for a fucking galaxy of it.

It’s so hard, the word cannot even describe it; how he tries fruitlessly to not look like a hopeless loon...

The first month after the break-up –a word he cannot get used to- is most dreadful, simply because he still treats Louis like he is his. Then he gets pummeled down when Louis would unintentionally remind him of his place, like shrugging his arm off his shoulder and giving him this look that says, _‘’What are you doing? I thought you were giving me space.’’_ He forgets about it only to be reminded of it again and again, like a fool that hasn’t learned his lesson.

During interviews, when he’d go and sit next to Louis and put his arm around him, talk to him throughout the whole thing, it almost confuses him why Louis would wiggle away from their close proximity, would tilt his head to whoever was sitting on his other side, would ignore Harry’s attempts to get his attention.

It usually hits him five minutes into whatever interview they’re doing but one time, Louis was blatantly ignoring him so badly that half-way through it, Harry put his hand on his thigh. That lasted until the commercial break when Louis sighed, warily picked up Harry’s hand and put it in Harry’s lap away from him, then got up and squeezed himself between Liam and Niall. Harry couldn’t understand what just happened until they were back on air. That’s when he finally figured it out and remembered the reality of their status. His face was so crestfallen they had to edit the entire thing.

Month two is no better than month one because they are supposed to be having the time of their lives, doing all sorts of incredible things like meeting the Queen and doing ten back to back filmed shows at the O2 Arena but Harry is miserable. Louis wouldn’t stand next him during performances, wouldn’t opt to sit next to him unless when he seemingly has to, wouldn’t whisper back into his ears when Harry would comment on something, wouldn’t hang out with him backstage unless one of the boys or one of their handlers was there too. He spends all his time with either Niall or Liam and Harry feels so jealous until once again, he remembers that there is no point in being jealous of something that is longer his in the first place.

Month three and Harry is losing his mind. Not only because Louis keeps brushing him off but because Louis is also isolating himself. Its tour time and it startles everyone when he asks for the single room rather than partnering up with Harry or one of the other boys as Harry has sadly come to expect. Harry doesn’t think Louis is serious until he grabs the key from Paul and is off towards his single room, all four boys looking at his retreating back with shocked and confused expressions.

It goes on throughout the European leg of their ‘’Take me Home’’ tour and Harry always demands to be in the room next to Louis’, is gripped with the insane need to barge into his room in the middle of the night just to make sure he’s sleeping okay. One night, his resistance crumbles and when Liam catches him in the hallway, trying not so subtly to sneak out to head for Louis’ room, Harry knows it’s over.

‘’You know, he’s never going to take you back if you don’t give him his space.’’ Liam tells him sternly, standing there in the hallway. Harry is in a white Tee and sweatpants, Liam in some fancy suit, probably just back from a charity event.

‘’It’s been three months, Liam. What more space does he need?’’ Harry demands.

‘’Are you blind?’’ Liam actually asks. ‘’You haven’t been giving him a breather, mate. You should see yourself sometimes. That creeper look you’ve got going for you, fuck, if you were gone for him before, you’re worse now. Fucking loosen up, Harry. Christ.’’ Liam rants, unstoppable. ‘’You haven’t been giving him space at all, don’t you get it? It’s why he keeps pushing you away, why this whole thing is being prolonged. You’re suffocating him and now he’s isolating himself because he’s tired of it, Harry, alright?’’

Harry stands there looking at one of his best mates like he’d just been slapped.

‘’I see,’’ he chokes out, trying to maintain what little dignity he has.

‘’Haz, don’t be like that. I’m just,’’ Liam, ever the daddy figure, even when lecturing, always tries to find a way to soften the edges. ‘’Look, he’s been miserable, just like you and you’re not giving him time to process things. He doesn’t talk to Zayn too, do you know that? Can’t stand the pity and he talks to Niall about stupid shit because Niall is good at making everything funny, bless his Irish soul and if it wasn’t for that time,’’ he pauses, like he’s not sure if mentioning the time when he had access to Louis and Harry didn’t is a good thing to do but he soldiers on. ‘’If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t be able to put two and two together and realize that what you’re doing is no good, mate. He needs to breathe, Harry and I know, okay?’’ Liam places his hands on Harry’s shoulders, makes sure to peer at his face so that Harry is looking at him and not staring at the floor. ‘’I know you love him a lot but you need, you need to back off, I’m sorry.’’

Harry nods and looks away, can’t stand to see the truth in Liam’s eyes, can’t stand that he’s right. His lower lip wobbles as he tries not to cry. It’s no good.

‘’I’m the first person he’s ever let in, you know?’’ he says, eyes misting. ‘’He told me I was the first person he ever dated, the first…’’ he wipes the corner of his eyes with his thumb as he hiccups. “I used to be the one who could calm him down,” he says. “I used to be the one he’d let defend and now he’s taken that from me.”

‘’I think that’s what you’re still refusing to acknowledge, mate. Louis is a separate person from you and he’s got the right to decide for things even from the stand point of a relationship. You don’t seem to understand that no amount of wishing for things to be different, no matter how sorry you are right now, will erase the events that have passed. You can’t insist for things to be the same, for things to return to the way they were so easily, when something so big must have happened to alter that completely, and no, I’m not saying that as a means for you to tell me what exactly happened.’’ Liam adds because he’s sensible and he knows what Harry’s thinking. ‘’I’m saying that because if you want Louis back, you have to understand that to do so, you have to start from scratch. You’ve got the means, you’ve got the ways, now start building again and the first step to doing that is taking a step back. You get what I’m saying here?’’

And well, let it not be said that Liam Payne sucks at motivational speeches because he’s the king and Harry will defend that forever.


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THIS NOTE BEFORE YOU CONTINUE;
> 
> Am really sry for the delayed update. for those of you who have been following Bed of Nails, am sure you know how regular I am in updating so clearly something must have kept me busy and that is the honest truth. I dont know whats happened to me exactly but last sunday i kinda lost my hearing somehow, like everything turned muffled and there's a constant ringing in my ears, even now. its caused a series of almost accidents because i cannot apparently hear properly and i went to a hearing specialist for it because it was starting to freak me out when it didn't go away and well, long story short, i'm working on it. at least the dizziness and the migraines stopped coz that has been why i couldnt function this past week at all. anyways, am a bit better and am back and i hope you all understand my situation. um, what else? oh, this chapter was inspired by a few fics that are my absolute favourite and i cldnt help but draw inspiration from. if you havent read them yet, pls do. they are; ''the dead of july'' by whimsicule, ''Core 'ngrato'' by Velvetoscar and ''As Wicked As Anything Could Be'' by whoknows. anyways, enjoy!

_“Dusk is just an illusion because the sun is either above the horizon or below it. And that means that day and night are linked in a way that few things are, There cannot be one without the other yet they cannot exist at the same time. How would it feel, I remember wondering, to be always together yet forever apart?”_

_Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook_

 

-Month four and he’s working on it, working on giving Louis proper space, using Liam’s speech as his source of strength and as much as it is so damn hard, he tries his best still. See, never has Harry known a time when upon seeing Louis, he hasn’t completely swept him up in cuddles and done his mighty hardest to make him laugh, even at his own expense. Harry’s never before been within Louis’ vicinity and not at least once or twice poured out words of the sweet kind or touches that screamed, ‘’Hey, am here. Can I make you happy please?’’

Not once since he’s known him, did he not shower him in kisses or pecks, caresses or dimpled smiles or whatever it was that filled Harry’s chest with ease upon seeing him preen.

But here he is, amidst their second world tour, here his Louis is, and he’s not allowed to pour words or touch or kiss or caress and he can’t say anything comforting, can’t say a damn thing, can’t even say his name or look his way, can’t even crack a joke on his own expense because heaven forbid, he might make Louis choke on his tongue or worse, look the other way and cry.

It’s all wrong and Louis is right there; on stage with him, backstage with him, on the tour bus, in hotel rooms, within the huddle of their band hugs and a lifetime of muscle memory and instinct fills Harry’s hands and feet and joints and veins and eyes and lips, screaming at him to just stride over to Louis and engulf him completely in warmth, wrap his smaller frame up inside of his never-ending growing limbs and press his lips to the crown of his head.

Month four is hard. If month four were a novel, it would be titled, ‘’Harry Styles, diary of a tortured, pining soul.’’ And every chapter would be a series of moments, though they may seem insignificant, mean everything. Moments of accidentally catching Louis’ eyes in the lift up to their hotel floor and thinking, “I’ve missed you. You’re so small in that jumper. Is it mine? You can keep it, you look good in it. I hope it makes you feel okay.’’ Moments of watching Louis’ smile dim when he’s reading a book in a corner and thinking, ‘’Are you okay? Is that book making you sad? Put it away, love and come laugh at old Harry, yeah?’’. Moments of having lunch in Sarah’s kitchen with the crew and watching Louis leave with only half his plate eaten, thinking, ‘’Are you not hungry? Is the food not okay? We can work something out, see I can buy you dinner or cook you dinner and maybe then you can eat, yeah?’’. Moments of noticing the bagginess of a T-shirt he’d don on stage and thinking, ‘’did you lose weight, is everything alright? Please let me feed you’’. Moments of hearing Louis stumble into the tour bus later than usual and thinking, ‘’Where have you been? Are you avoiding me? I’ve missed you so much. I’m hungry for you.’’ Moments of noticing Louis’ new set of clothes brought in by Caroline and readied in his section of the band wardrobe and catching Louis don an unfamiliar T and thinking, ‘’That looks cool on you. I’ve got new clothes too but only these tight shirts smell like you. Those new clothes don’t smell like me. Does it not bother you?’’

Moments of hearing Louis laugh on a bright sunny day and thinking, ‘’Hey, remember that time you broke up with me and said it wasn’t actually what you wanted? I can’t come back to you but can you come back to me? I’ll be good, I promise.’’

And an on-going series of ‘’I love you, I miss you, I love you. Take your time but please come back to me and if you do, don’t break up with me ever again, just please, don’t do that ever again, I love you I miss you.’’

Month four is hard and that would be the conclusion to his imaginary novel. And life goes on.

He avoids looking at Louis for as long as he can, even if eventually his gaze wanders over, especially during particularly boring moments when the interviewers are asking the same questions over and over again or when he’s too buzzed to go out on stage already. It says something, Harry knows, that his gaze –which he’s trying to tone the creepiness of it down, thank you very much, Liam- will eventually and inevitably, always end up on Louis, no matter how hard he tries to look the other way.

They’re playing an Arena Tour this time around, having graduated from pubs, clubs and theatre stages, and its big and massive and everything he’s ever wanted but on that massive stage, under those glaring lights somewhere in Paris, Harry looks at Louis, taking in the way his hair falls over his face, the bags underneath his eyes that say he is still not getting enough sleep, and wonders how anyone can blame him for naturally gravitating towards him like a moth to a flame.

What bothers him most though is that it becomes normal, the whole Louis opting for a room by himself and he doesn’t like it. And just because he and Louis are broken up doesn’t mean he can’t take care of him from behind the scenes. He asks Liam to talk to Louis about sharing a room together and Liam agrees; thinks the isolation has gone for too long. It goes without a hitch and soon, Liam’s got an arm wrapped around Louis’ shoulders as they head up towards their shared room. Harry tries not to feel jealous, he really, really does.

 

-It takes them until month five to discover that Louis never actually sleeps in his shared room with Liam, like at all. And Harry should have figured it out, should have known that Louis couldn’t possibly be unaware of their worry over him, which is why he shouldn’t have been surprised that Louis would opt for his bunk bed and sleep away in the car park inside their tour bus.

He figures it out the way he never wanted to. He’s coming back from an outing with some American friends and goes to the car park to pick up some snacks from the 1D tour bus. Sure he exercises now and goes to the gym and all but he is a teenager still and there are days when he craves for some Doritos and Cheetos every now and then. He opens the door of the bus and moves towards the kitchen, by-passing the bunk beds. He is actually raiding both Niall’s and Louis’ stash but he is going to invite Niall over for a movie night and he hopes that with Niall around, Louis can join them as well. It’s sad to think about, that he can’t be alone with Louis in a room anymore, has to have one of the boys there to act as a buffer.

He shakes such thoughts away as he bundles his arms with packets of chips. He stands there in their little kitchenette for a minute, wondering if he should bring out the soft drinks from the cooler as well when he hears a sharp gasp.

He whips his head around quickly; it makes his neck spasm a bit. The breathing sound quickens and he knows where it’s coming from and from whom.

It takes a mere three long strides to hit the bunk beds area before he turns on the switch on the wall, draping the bus in soft light and there on the lower bunk to his right, hunched and shaky is Louis.

‘’Lou,’’ he drops his mini cargo on the bunk bed across the space from where Louis is sitting up, having obviously just woken up from a bad dream. Louis is moving in a frenzied state, trembling. His fingers are skimming the sheets and the blankets, looking under his pillow for something.

‘’Lou, wh…?’’ Harry is about to ask as he drops to his knees, afraid to touch Louis when his eyes are unfocused and scared, fringe stuck to his sweaty forehead, face pale and lips wobbly, only his warped breathing, getting quickly more agitated, fill the bus.

‘’M-My p-pill-ls…’’ Louis stutters, tears filling his eyes but not spilling. Harry’s mind clicks into place just as an iPhone clutters to the ground and Louis makes a high, frustrated sound. Harry’s eyes catch sight of Louis’ phone and there, on the floor, about to roll away are Louis’ pills.

He dives for it quickly and catches it with long, agile fingers before it slips from his grasp. He opens it and takes out two pills.

‘’Here, Lou,’’ he offers them to Louis quickly as his other hand reaches back for the one bottle of water he got out of the mini fridge, mixed in with the chips he collected.

Louis snatches the pills and shakily tucks them in his mouth, almost missing altogether from how badly he’s shaking and having to cup one palm under the other and tossing his head back as he swallows to make sure they don’t slip away. Harry uncaps the bottle for him and damn not touching Louis; he brings up the neck of the bottle to Louis’ lips and helps him drink it, bringing a smooth hand to the back of his sweaty neck. Louis drinks little as his chest heaves, spilling a bit of water on the front of his hoodie. He sits back when he’s done, dislodging Harry’s hand away and rests his palms on his knees and his forehead on the back of his hands, clenching his eyes shut as if trying to wipe away the remnants of his dream with the tears that can no longer help but spill over.

Harry sets the bottle aside as he sits back on his hunches and takes the situation in. It’s like all those nights ago, when he woke up to Louis trembling and scared in the dark. Only this time, he isn’t as surprised about it as before and realizes this could have easily been avoided, the part of Louis going through this alone.

‘’Lou.’’

There’s no reaction from said boy whose trembling doesn’t stop. Louis isn’t exactly crying but his face is wet, his emotions out of control, body acting on its own will. He’s holding his sounds in, breathing through his nose and trying to mute the gasps and raggedness of his breathing. Back when he’d seen Louis like this for the first time, his blue eyes were blank; to the point that Harry couldn’t be sure he was even seeing anything. But right now, Louis’ eyes are closed in a way like he wants to keep it that way, like the world is a horrible picture to look at.

It is why Harry didn’t want Louis to sleep alone, why he hates himself for ruining his chances of ever spending private time with Louis ever again, for no longer being able to be there for him the way he should be. He tries that now, in the hope that Louis would stop making himself curl up into a ball in front of him, stop Louis from spilling silent tears into his skin like Harry being there does nothing to help him.

“Lou, hey. It’s gonna be okay, yeah?” Harry’s voice breaks but he soldiers on when Louis doesn’t answer. “Lou?’’

Louis continues to ignore him, body and mind in a different world. Harry waits then, waits for Louis’ head to clear. Honestly, he’d wait forever on him.

Eventually, Louis’ breathing settles but he remains hunched in the same position; eyes closed, forehead on the back of his hands, knees drawn up. Harry clears his throat.

‘’You know you can talk to me, Lou, right? About anything? And I’ll do whatever it takes to make things better for you and to be better than before, absolutely anything. I promise you.”

 At that, Louis finally turns his head, just slowly, his forehead still resting on his hands but his gaze meets Harry’s. Regardless of the blurriness in his eyes, the blue of his iris are steel hard and precise as they land on Harry’s face. The shadows dragging over his form from the fluorescent light are putting emphasis on his sharp cheekbone structure, the stubbly line of his jaw, his sunken-in wet cheeks and the purplish bags under his eyes.

He’s still beautiful; he’s the most beautiful thing Harry’s ever let go of and even now, with that awful realization saturating into his skin, he still takes his breath away.

Harry wants to reach out and pet his sweaty fringe, wants to soften his jagged edges, brush away whatever that’s hurt him, shovel the bad dreams into a box and bury them under ten feet of dirt. He wants to wipe away the dark smudges under his eyes and the tear tracks already forming residence on his cheeks and he wants to kiss him so much it hurts. He wants to breathe hope into both of them but mostly Louis. He cannot bear to swallow how ten thousand times worse this whole thing would be if Louis were all alone and Harry hadn’t come by the tour bus and...

“Why can’t you get it into your fucking head, that I want you gone from my life?” Louis’ voice cuts roughly through the silence as he raises his head, words low, vicious and unforgiving. ‘’You think you’re being a hero? Is that it? Or maybe you’re just plain stupid because what part of your brain cannot understand the meaning of space, hm? Or maybe you’re brain-dead, is that it? Or should I just fucking kill myself to get the sight of you away from me? Is that what you want? Will that make it easier for you to leave me the fuck alone?”

Harry feels his eyes widen at that. Louis has never, ever spoken to him like this, ever. And as the words sink in, he feels his heart leap in a very painful way, hurt screaming in his chest.

“What…Louis, what the…no! How can you think…?”

“Then stop it with your savior-fucking-complex and get the hell away from me,” Louis cuts him off, lies down with an air of finality and turns his back to Harry with a condemning huff.

After what seemed like an eternity of shocked silence, Harry snaps back into reality. Unable to fathom what just happened, let alone form words or coherent thoughts, he moves on autopilot. He gets up, knees creaking and joints aching but he picks up his loot and leaves the bus.

He is blank all the way to his hotel room, to the point that it takes him almost 20 minutes just to step off the right floor to his room from the lifts and he sits on his bed staring at nothing for so long that the sun comes up and he is still sitting there, with chips in his lap, as it sinks in over and over again how he completely fucked things up beyond repair.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is a filler chapter of sorts but if u know me, u'll know its just a prelude to a big thing. anyways, my ear problem is not so much of a problem anymore. its all fixed somehow even though my hearing in one ear is not 100% bt more like 80% but the doctor said it will be much better eventually so am glad. um, the next update will be after february 1, coz i have a big big big exam coming up and i need to focus on it so wish me luck and i hope u like this chapter. enjoy!

_''Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.''_

_Kahlil Gibran_

 

 

-So he backs off.

 

He does it for real. He no longer looks at Louis, no longer seeks him out backstage, no longer talks to him on stage. He doesn’t even dwell within his vicinity, opting for the quiet room and late night outs and the gym or the hotel spa. Niall, Liam and Zayn look between the two of them sometimes that it makes Harry wonder if he’s split the band in three; one side Louis, the other Harry and the three boys in between.

It’s strange to see their dynamics shift, with Niall and Zayn playing neutral and staying away from all the seriousness and Liam playing on Louis’ defense. Harry is not one to ask for someone to be on his side, but he sure doesn’t like feeling this alone.

Aside from on stage, things are mostly quiet and Harry cannot stand it. It’s one thing for Harry to stay away from where Louis is at all costs but it’s entirely another to have Louis stay away from the boys altogether. At one show, it took them almost an entire hour trying to find Louis in all the rooms at the arena only for Louis to pop up out of nowhere, on time and ready to hit the stage at the last minute so there’s no time to ask where he’s been. Harry ultimately concludes it’s best to spend time with the boys in the hope that Louis would occupy the quiet room since its much nearer to the dressing room, instead of some random space and consequently, not give anyone- mostly himself- heart palpitations.

It’s unbalanced though, when they’re in their dressing room and Louis is not there to kick-start their pre-show conversations so their nerves could die down. Even at the start of their break-up, when Harry would sit on the side like a margin, their rituals hadn’t changed, except for the part when Louis’ making them hot drinks, flitting from one boy to another because instead of molding himself to Harry’s side, he just sits somewhere else.

Now, there is no ritual, not in his absence. Now, they’re just sitting around quietly, eyes glued to phones or bodies napping. The most sound they’d get is when Niall strums on the guitar and Harry cannot stand the awkwardness of when said lad would try to start a conversation after stowing his guitar away, of Liam getting their drinks wrong, of Zayn putting his feet up on the couch where a fifth person ought to be and he does his best to change that up by just plugging in some pre-show music and dying everyone into the background, into black and white.

He hates it though because it makes him drown in quiet thoughts and quiet is dangerous. Quiet means thoughts wandering to Louis and how he’s doing and if he is eating or sleeping or laughing or crying and he can’t let himself go down that road.

So he goes a bit crazy.

He drives their musicians up the walls with real-life fruit ninja games and a gazillion pranks. He gives Paul a run for his money when he makes the guy annoyed enough to eventually play hide and seek and get anyone from their crew willing to put up with his antics, to play chase with him.

He gets tattoos, goes out to parties, meets new faces here and there, swirls a storm on social media with fan and celebrity interaction and it would have been a great way to spend the prime of his youth if not for the fact that he’s doing all this in order to fill the gaping hole in his chest, where he hides behind charming smiles and empty eyes.

Liam doesn’t exactly approve but he doesn’t say anything. Sure, he’s worried that Harry is pushing himself too hard to get over Louis –he really isn’t trying to get over Louis, just doing what the boy demanded but semantics- worried that his late night outs will hit him hard and he’ll fall through the cracks but he just sighs and says nothing, as if hoping that Harry would come to his senses all by himself.

Harry ignores him. He does well with Cal and Lou and Tom and baby Lux and does well with their crew but mostly he keeps to himself and continues going hard, partying up almost every night, attending fashion events, music events, charity events, anything he can think of to get his mind off running towards Louis and scooping him up from wherever he is.

The U.S. media love him, cannot stop writing one article after another about him, and he is not surprised if his image comes off as false. They think he’s a party animal, dating girls left and right, which is ridiculous, because what is so wrong with making friends with girls or partying it up? Sure the partying part is a bit extreme but meeting new people has always been a favorite habit of Harry. At least they do acknowledge the good things within the mix though, like him and Ed Sheeran hanging out and feeding the homeless in New York or when he’d gone out and surprised some fans outside their hotel in Chicago.

Liam was right though and by the time they get closer to the end of their U.S. leg of the tour, Harry’s body just cannot cope up with his fast-paced life.

He finds himself one morning unable to get out of bed; voice shot, head heavy and when he tries to sit up, his stomach lurches and before he knows it, he’s rushing to the connecting bathroom and barely manages to hit the toilet to spill the contents of his stomach.

His body hurts so badly and his head is so much worse. He closes his eyes as he rests his cheek against the cold edge of the porcelain and tries to will the dizziness and pounding headache away.

When he deems himself steady enough, he gets up, flushes the toilet, brushes his teeth then goes back to bed. He’s intending on blacking out but then his phone rings and he knows he’s fucked.

It’s a hard day honestly. It’s hot as a volcano but he’s a shivering mess when he steps out of his hotel room. They’re in Phoenix –or maybe Texas, he’s not sure- and Caroline their stylist is asking for all members of the band to be present in a hotel room a floor down from his. Zayn was rooming with him but the lad’s nowhere to be found. Turns out all the boys are already in the room designated for Caroline’s wardrobe collection for them and that the call he got on his phone was not the first. He’s late.

He gets there eventually and he invisibly pats himself on the back for not giving away that he’s not feeling well. He goes through the motions and greets everyone on the team, high fives a sleepy Niall and goes through one change of clothes after another. They’re trying on outfits to wear for the world premiere of their documentary movie, which is still way off but time is of the essence.

He manages quiet well considering that off in a corner of the room, Louis is flitting from the connecting bathroom and back, undressing from one outfit then coming out dressed in another and Harry is not sure if the heat sizzling down his neck is due to his incoming fever or from the intimate knowledge he has of the reasons behind Louis’ unease of undressing in front of people.

They make eye contact at one point, Louis opening the door of the bathroom dressed in a different blazer than the one he wore previously and Harry with his arms in mid-air as he changes out of a jumper. Harry is not sure if time stood still or if the guilt he sees in Louis’ eyes is strong enough to make the world stop spinning but Harry’s actions do stop for a split second before Louis looks away and the world continues to spin.

Harry gets tired quickly but he soldiers on. At some point, Caroline notices that he’s sweating profusely and ‘’you look a bit green, love’’ but he shrugs it off, says it’s just the heat, even though the AC is on full blast. Eventually, they call it a day and they pack up to the tour bus where a day of promoting tickets for the next couple of shows awaits.

 

‘’Are you sure you’re alright?’’ Paul asks a few minutes before they go on air. Harry nods his head as he wipes the sweat off his forehead for what seems like the hundredth time. They’re in some corporate-looking building, something like the BBC quarters back in London but less posh, with a radio interview to do and he is thanking his lucky stars that while he feels like puking his guts out, at least this promo is not being televised or videoed. He is sure he looks pale and that his lips are slightly trembling, not to mention that he’s wearing a thin cardigan over his white t-shirt when it’s summer and the heat is radiating off the glass windows.

As soon as they are ushered in and mics are put in front of them, he takes a deep breath and hopes to God the day ends already.

‘’Good afternoon everyone,’’ the D.J. starts and his accent is so foreign it makes Harry miss home. As soon as he fires off the first fan question, which, not surprisingly is directed at Harry, the D.J. turns to the Cheshire lad with eager eyes. As soon as Harry takes in a breath to speak though, all three heads turn his way. He coughs into a fist to clear his coarse voice but then nothing’s changed, and his answer is hoarse and unusually throaty and that’s when they know something is really up.

Harry didn’t tell them how he’d woken up sweating and shivering from his brief nap on the tour bus, didn’t tell them how dizzy he felt just sitting up and finally coming off to join the lads at the radio station they’ve stopped at. No, he’d plastered a smile on his face and didn’t let the screeching of screaming fans make him feel worse than he already is.

Harry tries not to talk much after that first question but the interviewer seems too keen on torturing him, selecting devious questions then asking Harry to answer first and sometimes returning to him at the tail end of one of the boys’ answers. He feels drained and the smile on his face is starting to wear off, not to mention he keeps coughing into his elbow and he’s already finished his bottle of water even though they’re not even half-way through.

He starts to feel like crying when suddenly he feels a nudge to his side. He turns his head and is shockingly surprised to find Louis sitting next to him. It takes a while to register and a while longer to look away because it has been almost a month since that awful night of harsh words, a month when he’d last looked at Louis like this, let alone this close to him. He takes his fill through blurry eyes, takes in the scoop black and white Henley shirt Louis is wearing and his signature fly-away fringe but Louis is looking away from him, smiling cordially at the D.J. He feels a slight nudge again, Louis’ elbow moving incrementally and his eyes falling briefly on the table before moving back to the D.J. Harry takes the hint much slower than usual and when his eyes eventually fall on the table, he sees Louis’ water bottle in front of him, untouched, waiting like an invitation.

Harry blinks at it, probably looking like an idiot for staring dumbly at a water bottle. He looks back between it and Louis then back again before he hears a slight huff. He looks at Louis and sees him looking away. He looks back at the water bottle and his tired eyes almost boggle when Louis’ pointer fingers taps the side of the bottle once, moving it incrementally closer to Harry.

He takes the hint and tries to swallow the fond and painful lump in his throat as he takes a long sip.

 

-He doesn’t know what it means but when he wakes up from another brief nap on the tour bus that’s about to park at their venue, he sees a can of soup and a mini-sized travel thermos on the floor near his bunk bed. He eventually gets up and tries to take a breath but it comes off as a cough that goes off for more than half a minute, chest rattling and throat spasming before it finally dies down.

He feels like shit and he knows he’s probably sporting the beginning signs of a fever by now that might ultimately turn rotten after the show so he’s grateful to whoever left the soup and thermos for him. When they had finished the long, long interview at the radio station, (they played some games like ‘’truth or dare’’ and ‘’never have I ever’’ and the amount of embarrassing questions Harry got made the whole thing less enjoyable than it was supposed to be) Paul pressed his hand against Harry’s forehead and frowned.

‘’You need to rest. If you get too unwell for tonight, we can cancel.’’ Paul had told him but Harry irked at the thought of disappointing all those fans even when sometimes, it’s not his fault. He just doesn’t like the idea of being a liability but to appease their tour manager, he’d nodded and headed straight for his bunk bed for a power nap, the boys trailing behind with get well soon’s, except for Louis, who had remained silent.

He’d slept it all off, Louis’ gesture and the tiredness of the whole day tucked behind him and now he’s awake with a can of soup and a thermos in his lap. He wants to thank whoever left him these but the bus seems empty and he realizes that they’re not moving, which means they must be already parked in the venue and everyone’s already inside.

He eventually gets up to their little kitchenette and boils some water for his soup. While he sits at the table, he uncaps the thermos, stabs the compressor with his thumb then pours some into the little accompaniment of a cup and takes a sip of what is surely to be a hot, satisfying drink.

He stops mid-sip though as the taste registers on his tongue and he gasps at the drink as it hits him. He knows the taste of the liquid, the cinnamon brew mixed in with ginger, honey, lemon and the secret ingredient, anise. He knows the taste so well because when his voice was shot that third week on the x-factor and he’d been too nervous to go on stage and Louis got all worried and eventually called his mom –whom Harry didn’t know was his adoptive mom at the time- for her recipe then went all; _‘’it’s apparently a family secret, Harold, this brew is the mother cure of all coughs and flus, take it and you’ll be as good as new, oh hey that sorta rhymed, here take a sip, love.’’_ And Harry did feel better, or his voice at least didn’t give out on him when they went live and Louis had cuddled him all night after and now that exact same brew is sitting in front of him, warmed up in a thermos so that whenever he’d eventually get up, it would still be hot and cozy for him.

God, is Louis trying to kill him?

He doesn’t let himself admit to the stinging he feels in his eyes because it’s definitely just from the steaming water from where he’s pouring it unto his awaiting chicken soup and not this overbearing need to give Louis a desperate hug.

He finishes his soup and finishes his thermos and he does feel better. His bones don’t ache too much and his head is not all fuzzy and is no longer bloated with a pounding headache. He goes to the connecting bathroom on steady feet instead of wobbly ones and wets a wash cloth with left-over warm water from the kettle he carried with him. He washes the sweat and tiredness from his body lethargically before he dresses up in fresh clothes. He relaxes for a while in the lounge, checking up his twitter and well, the quiet is a bit of a reprieve from the hectic, meat-grinding grueling specter of activities he’d put himself through the past few weeks, all trying to get over the boy who is still the kind Samaritan Harry knows him to be. He heaves a sigh before finally realizing there’s no point in dilly-dallying or waiting for something to happen. He said he’ll say thank you to whomever left him the goods and he is not one to back out of his intentions.


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooooo, i cldnt wait for after February 1 so, here's an early update. a part of this chapter was inspired by a lovely fic called ''hey'' by rockinaintnowalkinthepark  
> enjoy. all the love xoxo

_“You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts.”_

_Khalil Gibran, The Prophet_  
  

 

 

-Louis is not in the quiet room when Harry finally sets foot inside the venue. He had decided to go straight there with a hopeful heart and well, the hope is still there. He is undeterred.

Harry is about to venture on a treasure hunt for Louis –or more specifically, ask Paul to do it since it would be awkward if Harry went around asking his band mates and the crew members for Louis, like a lost puppy. He cannot find Paul though so he heads for the dressing room, hoping to find the Doncaster lad there.

He is shocked to find Louis in said room instead.

The boys are laughing around; Niall clutching his stomach with one hand while shakily grasping a mug with the other, and Harry is afraid the contents are going to tip off with how hard he is laughing. Zayn’s feet are flat on the ground, chuckling with a huge smile on his face, both hands wrapped around his black and white striped mug that Louis and he bought for him for his birthday (striped because _Louis_ and black and white, because well, _Harry,_ which doesn’t really make it a personal birthday gift of sorts –personal means the mug would at least have a spider man sticker on it to honor Zayn’s love of comics- but they liked it when they bought it so whatever). Liam is slapping his knee repeatedly, his mug steaming on the coffee table, forgotten in the gusto of rattling laughter spilling out of Liam’s mouth.

Harry just stands there by the door for a while, watching all this unfold and he cannot help it, it’s completely out of his hands when his eyes trace up to what must be the source of his band mate’s cheery mood.

Louis is sat there on the counter, feet swinging, the back of his hand covering his mouth, an awful habit of his when he’s smiling too wide and he’s trying to tone it down. There’s a mug between his legs, held by his free hand and he looks dainty and small and just, since when did he become all giddy and smiley again, all ten times more gorgeous and beautiful doing it? It hits Harry how much he’s missed out on him, how much he’s missed him.

Eventually, the laughter dies down and Louis looks at him which makes the other three look at the door where he is still standing.

‘’Oh Harry mate, come in, you feeling better?’’ Niall’s voice is loud as he beckons Harry in, patting the couch and making room for him by sliding closer to Zayn. They all look at him with mirth still lingering in their eyes and as Harry approaches hesitantly –God, when was the last time all five of them shared this room?- he sits down and is about to answer Niall’s question but Niall continues talking, wrapping his free arm around Harry’s shoulder.

‘’Get this, Tommo here was just telling us this really funny story and…’’ he goes on to fill Harry in on what he’d missed out on but well, it can’t be as perfect as the original version they’d heard without him. He knows this because Niall keeps clicking his fingers as he tries to recall a certain part of the tale and then Zayn would try to contribute and help Niall gather his thoughts before Liam just eventually chuckles and says something along the lines of, ‘’you should have heard it, mate, it was so funny.’’

The conversation keeps going on after that, like the start button has already been pressed and there’s no stopping the flow. Harry looks up and wonders why Louis is silent, hoping with a sinking stomach that it has nothing to do with him interrupting their merry mood.

But Louis’ back is turned and he’s no longer sitting on the counter but standing by the food table. He seems to be busy with something and Harry keeps wandering his eyes over his little figure that when Louis turns around with a fresh mug in his hands, he catches his blue eyes. Harry smiles almost shyly, because he’d been caught staring and much to his surprise, Louis actually doesn’t turn his eyes away. Instead, he strides over to him. Harry turns rigid, not sure what to do, if he should get up so Louis can sit next to Niall and he can take the lone armchair or squeeze in so that the couch can occupy all four of them.

Before he could actually panic, Louis simply bends and puts the mug on the coffee table in front of him, pets Harry’s hair once then retrieves his own mug on the make-up counter before he sits on the armchair.

Harry is actually in shock. Did Louis just…

‘’Oh Harry, remember that D.J. this morning? The nosy one?’’ Niall asks from next to him, and his voice is loud enough to cut off the white noise of his thoughts. He whips his head towards Niall from where he’d been staring at his apparently freshly-brewed mug before he nods at Niall with blinking eyes.

‘’Yeah, nosy alright.’’ He agrees almost blankly and he’s glad Niall lets it slide as he animatedly tells them about something exciting the D.J. tweeted about them after their segment.

Noticing the roughness of his voice, Harry takes the offered mug and takes a whiff. He smells anise and cinnamon, the same concoction from earlier and his eyes flit to Louis over the rim of the mug.

Louis is already looking at him expectantly and the look of guilt Harry saw earlier in the day blazes in his blue irises again. Harry mouths a ‘’thank you’’ with a subtle tilt to the mug and takes a sip only after Louis smiles and looks away.

There’s a shift in the air that continues right until they’re handed their mics and do their ritual before they hit the stage. It feels like an acceptance, that what’s happened is in the past and it doesn’t mean they can’t move on from it. Harry feels it and Louis’ gestures seem to show that too. In all cases, Harry feels somewhat content that maybe not everything about him and Louis has been burnt to ash.

 

-Half-way through the show, right about the time they sing ‘’teenage dirtbag’’, Harry feels his stomach churning. His forehead is sweaty and in his adrenaline and stage high, he is not aware that his body is quaking with that incoming bitch of a fever he’d feared and expected after the show and not during. To make it through, he’d eaten four slices of pizza before they hit the stage because he hadn’t actually had anything except for the soup and the two drinks Louis had given him. He’d been so hungry not long into his sit down with the boys in the dressing room and had gotten up ten minute before they were due live –he couldn’t bring himself to leave the dressing room, not after getting the chance to orbit around Louis again- and ate four slices off of Phil’s early dinner.

Now, it’s biting him in the arse as he feels his stomach turning like hula hoops. Already five songs in and he felt his voice giving out so he’s been maxing out on throats lozenge for almost every song. He really doesn’t need his body to give out on him right now.

Louis keeps shooting him these worried glances from across the stage and well, at this point in time, he doesn’t mind the comfort he sees in those concerned eyes because it means he cares. Maybe not later when he’s all better but right now, in this moment, his body high with a fever and his stomach about to flip inside out, he finds a bit of reprieve in the eyes he knows will always make him feel safe when they’re on him.

The comfort doesn’t last though because as the song ends, he feels a hurling sensation race up his entire body and before he knows it, he’s hitting backstage, a hand on his stomach and finds an empty crate box on the side behind a prop wall dividing the stage from the entry way to the back. The crate box is probably for the wires or equipment the stage people are going to use to pack things up when they leave but for now, he’s throwing up in it like there’s no tomorrow.

The boys belt out to ‘’rock me’’ on stage as he slumps against the prop wall with Paul saying something urgent but in his feverish haze, he honestly cannot even remember his own name, let alone hear the man. All he knows is that the dim lights and his broad back are the only two things hiding what’s happening from the many eyes of the fans, probably zooming in with their cameras on him, trying to find out why he is not on stage.

Eventually, the haze clears and he tilts his head up and sees Paul dabbing at his mouth and chin with a wet cloth and pressing a clean white shirt into his limp hand, the one not around his stomach.

‘’Harry, c’mon, you have to get up. You have to finish the show, I’m sorry. C’mon, kid, get up.’’ He hears and well, accompanied by the screaming fans and his boys belting out on stage without him, it’s settled. Ever the professional, he gets up on shaky knees, changes from one shirt to another and says a quick and rough ‘’sorry’’ to Paul as the man carries the crate and hands him his mic back. He snatches a bottle of water before he steps back on stage and guzzles it during Liam’s speech then sings the next song along with the boys.

It’s a gazillion, ‘’are you okay?’’, ‘’shit, you’re burning up, sit down and drink more water.’’ and ‘’your voice is shot, what happened?’’ but Louis’ concerned eyes are double all that. He doesn’t stop his eyes from wandering over to Harry’s almost aggressively; worry blooming over his features to the point that Zayn has to comfort him too.

It is not their best show.

 

-Harry insists he’s fine, says he feels much better after he threw up and stubbornly convinces Paul to keep up with their schedule and not book a doctor’s appointment for the night. So, after they’ve showered at the venue, they pick up their stuff and are back on the tour bus. Niall drapes an arm over him as they walk to the bus, rubbing his hand up and down Harry’s forearm and being nice and sweet that Harry already feels better.

As soon as they’re in the bus, he heads for his bunk bed and he’s out.

 

-‘ _’Should we carry him then?’’_

_‘’I don’t think we ought to move him.’’_

_‘’He doesn’t have a concussion, dimwit, he’s got a fever.’’_

_‘’Well, what do you propose we do? Call Paul or summat?’’_

_‘’Look, just go all of you, I’ve got this.’’_

_‘’Lou, are you quite sure…?’’_

_‘’Just go, Li. He won’t bite.’’_

There’s more muttering then a shuffle and when it gets quiet, Harry finally finds the strength to open his eyes. He feels groggy and sweaty as fuck, all shivery under his thin summer blanket. He sees Louis’ profile and is about to ask what’s going on but nothing comes out. Nothing but a hoarse croak and shit, he’s lost his voice. He has to squeeze his eyes shut at the pounding headache wrapping itself around his skull. He groans as he tucks his knees to his chest and squeezes himself into a fetal position. He buries his face into his pillow so that the wave of sickness that strikes his over-heated body would hopefully wears off. He feels like shit, utter proper shit.

He feels something drape over him and when he lifts his eyelids, he sees Louis haul what looks like four other blankets on top of him, pats his body to make sure the blankets snuggle him up nicely before he puts an extra pillow next to his face. Harry buries his nose in the cold and soft material and feels the heat from his feverish cheeks stave off a bit.

It gets quiet after that and he doesn’t like it. He hopes above all hopes that Louis hasn’t left him. So when he opens his eyes and sees Louis sitting by the edge of his bunk bed, he is honestly relieved, he could almost feel the sickness leaving him.

‘’Lou.’’ Is what he is sure he said but there’s no sound coming from his shot voice. His feeble attempt leads to a downright horrible round of coughing and the spike of his headache seems to increase ten folds.

When he’s done, he lifts his glazed eyes to look up at Louis, and he feels tears on his cheeks that had escaped from his bout of coughing. He tries to wipe them on his drenched pillow and not the nice pillow Louis gave him but it makes his head hurt so he decides to keep still as much as possible while keeping his drooping eyes on Louis’ movements.

Said body bends down, probably picking something up from the floor but when he comes up, there’s a wet rag in his hand and he brings it up to Harry’s forehead and cheek to wipe the sweat and tears away. The feel of it is nice on his skin, really nice. The bowl of water where Louis had sunk the rug in is at just the right temperature, not too hot and not too cold, warm enough to make his skin all tingly and fresh. Then Louis wipes at his skin with something soft and dry, making sure the tingly feeling doesn’t develop into cold skin and it’s so Louis to care about the little things, it makes Harry’s eyes water at the thought.

Louis is quietly brushing at his hair, scratching his scalp in a soothing manner, like he knows Harry’s head is pounding and he’s trying to give him a reprieve from it. He’s also staring at Harry a bit intensely, albeit softly and Harry doesn’t know what to make of it. It’s been a while since he and Louis shared the same air, let alone sat alone together, and he doesn’t want it go to waste.

‘’Why are you taking care of me?’’ he croaks out but it’s a jumble of rough sounds and its really getting him frustrated.

Louis sighs, aware that Harry is stubborn enough to continuously ignore his distraught voice. So he bends down again and picks up what seems to be a familiar looking thermos. He uncaps it then pours it into a metal cup. The steam rising from the cup is mouth-watering and Harry wishes he had the strength to get up and drink it in one gulp. But Louis fixes that for him. He produces a short, sturdy straw and dips it in the cup before he edges it towards Harry’s lips. Harry takes it between his teeth then sucks an eager sip. He closes his eyes and lets the anise, cinnamon, lemon and ginger, familiar like a merry bunch of old friends now, seep warmth into his cold, scratchy vocal cords.

He exhales then reaches for another sip before Louis could retract the warm brew and Louis lets him have at it, lets him drink one little gulp after another. When Harry lets go of the straw, he turns his face into the pillow and closes his eyes but not before he mutters a weak, thank you. Louis doesn’t reply, just brings the wet, warm cloth back to his pale skin, wiping at his temple and wayward, damp curls, alternating between smooth caresses to his hair and gentle strokes to his skin.

It doesn’t take long for Harry to start to drift back to sleep and he only clings to reality when he hears Louis’ voice. His eyes are at half-mast so he doesn’t see how Louis turned from calm to hesitant to now apparently fighting a war inside of himself, and Harry is starting to worry at the ongoing silence, would sit up if not on the verge of falling into deep sleep.

"I'm sorry." Louis’ voice croaks out.

For what?

"I thought I could do it," Louis whispers. "I thought…I could tell you and make you stop but I guess I wasn’t quite brave enough. I took my anger out on you and I let you get hurt and it feels too late to say anything, even now. I’m still not so much braver either but I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you by making you feel inadequate. I never meant to make your actions backfire on you. I hope that makes sense. Um.”

Harry wants to sit up immediately, uncaring whether Louis would run away or not. But Louis’ hand is still on his head, fingers interwoven into his sweaty hair, so he remains immobile.

Louis sighs and when Harry blinks his eyes a bit open, he sees Louis’ free hand scratching the skin above where his ankle is folded under his thigh. It’s a sign of anxiety and Harry wishes he had the strength to stop him.

“Uhm… so…”

It must have been several minutes before he continued and Harry really wants to sleep because Louis’ fingers don’t stop moving, soothingly twirling Harry’s curls between his fingers as the younger boy simply focuses on breathing in deeply.

“So… I have something to tell you, obviously, but I’m worried about how you’ll take it and, you know, what you’ll think of me.” Louis swallows thickly. “I know you said you would love me anyways and stuff, but…that’s before I broke up with you.’’ Louis winces. ‘’Before you backed off. I’m so sorry you got shut out like that. I never mean to make you feel like you were overbearing. You know I love having you around, right?“

Harry doesn’t nod, because Louis continues anyways. Harry closes his eyes and let’s Louis’ voice engulf him completely like a cocoon.

‘’But like, I needed this distance because I think I needed to believe I can trust you again. Not sure if I ever stopped but it made me realize that I could, that it was me I didn’t trust, not you. God, you’re still very much an incredibly important person in my life and I’m really fucking terrified of losing you and that you’ll hate me or something. It’s the reason why I’ve been pushing you away,’’ Louis’ voice trembles in a way Harry knows he’s holding back tears. ‘’And I just…I hate seeing you ill and not coming to me to take care of you because you think you deserve being punished. I never meant for you to feel like that Harry, I swear, I was just trying to protect myself, I didn’t mean for you to…’’

Harry feels cold and it takes a second to realize it’s because Louis’ wretched his fingers from his curls, causing it to tug a little. He opens his eyes slightly and sees Louis holding his head in both hands, elbows on his knees, back bent and, fuck, crying.

‘’I’m sorry, Harry, I’m so sorry.’’ He hears him muttering between deep gulps and shaky exhales. Harry feels torn between engulfing him in a hug and giving Louis time to process his thoughts back into order. He feels very sluggish still; silently alarmed at Louis’ distress, like the metaphorical blanket engulfing them is keeping him muted.

‘’Sorry,’’ Louis sniffles as he gains some control back. He rubs his eyes clear before he sits up, head still bent, arms bracketing his thighs, shoulders arched, chin almost resting on his collarbones and Harry sees his outline, sees Louis breathing in and out before finally he stills.

When he looks up though, it’s like he’s looking for redemption. His face looks morbidly settled, like he’d given up on fighting. His blue eyes look dull and blank, like he’s standing on a precipice, about to take a deep plunge only instead of panicking, Louis looks deadly calm. Harry almost wants to fist the back of his shirt and pull him back.

But Louis doesn’t jump out of reach. Instead, time passes and Harry waits until he cannot anymore, until the moon turns black and his breathing turns even and all the night sounds around him are a distant lullaby. Eventually, Louis gets up and turns off the lights in the bunk area, delving them into darkness. It’s silent, save for their breathing and Harry wants to go to sleep now so he can talk to Louis as soon as he wakes up. He needs to comfort him, tell him that he should stop apologizing, that whatever that’s eating at him, whatever he’s not telling Harry is alright to keep to himself; that he shouldn’t feel obliged or condemned to speak, that his anger that night, even though the words hurt, were justified somehow because he had every right to demand for his space and Harry can accept that now. He can accept those vicious words, no matter how hard it was to hear because he knows that even though Louis meant most of them, he’s at least sorry about it too. Mostly, he wants Louis to stop feeling sorry on his account.

Unable to see in the thick darkness, he’s not aware that Louis is still there, standing next to his bed. Even though he’s got one foot standing in the cusp of sleep, he still hears said boy take in a deep breath.

‘’My father raped me for a whole year and I took it and all the beating so that Leo wouldn’t get hurt. You did nothing wrong, my love. Nothing that I could have stopped sooner if I only trusted myself enough to tell you and I’m sorry I made you feel isolated because of it. I hope you get better soon.’’ Harry feels fingers tuck a curl behind his ear and a soft kiss pressed to his temple. ‘’I love you. I’m so sorry.’’

By the time Harry remembers how to actually take in air, his lungs are burning and Louis is gone. Fuck, he’s never hated himself more.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an update! enjoy :D

_''Sometimes two people have to fall apart to realize how much they need to fall back together.''_

_Anonymous_

 

 

-By the time he wakes up, its early afternoon and he feels so wretched that for a second, he thought it was because he still felt a bit feverish and that he hates being sick for long. But then it doesn’t take much for Louis’ words to play back in his mind and really, it was inevitable, that the first thing he does right then is cry.

It took him forever to fall asleep after Louis’ last words but his body, unable to cope with his distressed mind, forced the lights out of him. Now, with his full awareness on, it just hits him suddenly how much he’d taken Louis’ trust for granted that infamous night, how much hurt he’d inflicted, no matter how inadvertently it was. A small voice in the back of his mind tells him that Louis should not have kept this from him but an even stronger voice insists on how selfish he was, how inconsiderate and inattentive he was to Louis’ feelings.

His tears soak his already messed-up pillow case but he cannot help feeling even more deflated and guilty at his selfishness because his feelings for Louis hasn’t changed even one bit. It’s still there, like a giant red, neon sign, like the big, fat moon overlooking the earth. He still loves him with all that’s left of his heart and just thinking about it makes feel him horrible because he shouldn’t think about his feelings at all. No, he should realize that there are more important matters at stake. But he’s a coward.

He’s selfish, and he was lying to himself when he believed he’d be okay with backing off, with Louis not loving him back anymore. Turns out, that was never a problem. Louis loving him was never the issue if his last words are anything to go by.

He doesn’t get the chance to go there in his mind because Paul calls out his name and he can hear the man’s footsteps approaching. Mustering up his strength, he takes deep breaths and gets up to start his day.

Paul doesn’t say anything about the blotchiness of his cheeks or his stilted smile, a horrible attempt at seeming fine and truth be told Harry is glad, because he honestly cannot muster a decent word out. He’s on autopilot when he walks into the hotel, trailing behind Paul with all the blankets covering him like a cocoon. The muscled man is carrying his things and some much needed medicine he’d bought for him.

Harry takes a hot warm shower and has room service breakfast waiting for him and Paul readying his medicine. He eats his omelets and his sausages, drinks his lemon and ginger –the hotel version is not nearly as good as the one he’s had- then he takes his vitamins and medicine dutifully. He feels better now that he’d sweated out the fever, showered off the sickness and has been on lemon and ginger nonstop but he feels weak. His appetite is back though so the breakfast spread is quite inviting and he eats his plate clean.

Paul apparently had stayed on the bus with him but slept way upfront by the driver’s seat, far away from the bunks area. Harry knows because Paul keeps telling him what a pain it was and he keeps massaging his neck, trying to unlock the creak. Harry is grateful that Paul doesn’t mention his early cry-fest, as quiet as he was about it though he cannot be too sure since he thought he was alone.

He is even more grateful because he thought he was left by himself in the bus last night but then again, he should’ve known better, should’ve known that Louis wouldn’t ever have him left alone when he’s weak.

Louis.

Harry doesn’t know what to do. He’s completely out of his depth, flying blind. It’s only been a few hours since he’d woken up and now he’s already close to a complete breakdown in the middle of his hotel room because Louis has clearly been hurt so badly, worse than he ever imagined. The scars on his back do not equate to the invisible ones he carries, and Harry wishes what he’d heard last night wasn’t true, that Louis’ quiet admission was a figment of his own imagination, conjured up by his sickness and his ache to get Louis back.

And that’s not to mention the ‘’I love you’’ part, said like fitting in a missing piece into a puzzle, filling a tall glass of water for parched lips and dry mouths and mending every jagged edge of his heart that broke when Louis opened his hands and let it fall out of his palms. Saying those three words felt like Louis had picked him up and put him back together, glued back strongly enough that he is now able to feel so wretched after his confession, fixing and shattering him all at the same time.

He is not even close to knowing how to approach Louis now but he knows he wants to. He wants to stop avoiding him and drawing his eyes away whenever they catch each other’s glances.

Almost like his mind conjured him up, a knock on the door brings Harry back from his wanderings. Paul gets up to open the door and comes back a second later with Louis.

Harry’s breathe hitches so he presses his lips together and reaches for his phone. He’s not ready to talk to Louis, not strong enough to face him without giving himself away. He hears footsteps approach then a warm, familiar presence close to his side. It’s inevitable but let it not be said that Harry is rude. He was brought up better than that.

He looks up and sees that Paul is no longer around the living room which means that it’s only him and Louis. And Louis, ever lovely and sweet, is standing in front of him with a respectable space between them, draped in a slim-fitted hoodie, grey sweatpants and only a pair of striped multi-colored socks, no shoes. His hair is its usual bird nest mess, and his stubble light and cheekbones ever so beautiful.

Harry cannot help but take his fill. Louis looks soft, like a pillow case, like a cuddle and Harry wants to hug him or be hugged by him. He also looks nervous, fingers fiddling in front of him and eyes darting everywhere but on Harry’s. It dawns on him that they haven’t spoken properly in close to six months. Harry doesn’t count the night Louis said those harsh words and aside from last night, which was completely one-sided, this is the first time they have stood alone in a room in a somewhat civil fashion. So much to maintaining friendship.

‘’Good morning,’’ Louis breaks the silence, eyes glancing at something behind Harry’s shoulder. His voice is raspy, like he’d just woken up and walked straight from his bed to Harry’s room. He feels a leap in his heart at the familiarity, reminiscent to those times when Louis was a bit showy of how much he prioritized Harry, how much he always thought of him and always put him first and it makes him wonder if he ever came close to doing the same for Louis.

Harry slides his legs from underneath the breakfast table and sits sideways in order to face Louis, hands in his lap.

‘’Good morning,’’ he says and he’s glad his voice sounds better than the previous night and not weak and shaky because of Louis’ proximity –even though he is still two steps too far away from his reach.

‘’You sound better,’’ Louis voices, placing his hands behind him and rocking on his heels, eyes still avoiding Harry’s and Harry doesn’t want that; he’s tired of them running in circles.

‘’Thanks to you,’’ he says boldly. ‘’Couldn’t have done it without you.’’

The blush that appears on Louis’ cheeks is a shade of apple red and it’s a sight to behold.

‘’Don’t be silly,’’ Louis mutters with a slight twitch to the corner of his lips, like he’s holding back from rolling his eyes.

‘’I’m not,’’ Harry swallows because he doesn’t want to push this, doesn’t want Louis running out on him but fuck it; he needs to take the risk. ‘’Louis, look at me.’’

Louis stills. It shows on his face now how hesitant he is and Harry realizes it’s not fear stopping him; its embarrassment.

‘’Please,’’ he adds.

Louis nods then finally raises his chin and looks directly at Harry. His eyes are so intense and Harry cannot help but wonder if that’s how it’s always been or simply because he’d just missed out on so much of him. There’s a lot swirling in those blue orbs; expectation, fear, reluctance but generally, he can sense how lost Louis feels, like he’s standing there unable to find his footing and it hits him now, how Louis’ words on the day they broke up ring true and how Liam was awfully right in pointing out how blind he’d been.

Harry wants to steady him, wants to hold his hips gently so he can stand rooted to the ground and firmly tethered and he knows now, that telling Louis he heard every single word he’d said last night is not the way to do it.

‘’Can we be friends again?’’ he asks instead, quietly, hopeful because it may not seem plausible for him to touch Louis but at the end of the day, that does not matter as much compared to his request and logically speaking, being best mates again is ultimately what he can reach out for, what he believes he is allowed.

 ‘’Oh,’’ Louis releases a shaky breath, like he’s surprised he can speak.

‘’Yes, I…I’d really like to be friends again, if that’s alright with you. It’s been too long and you were there for me these past few days and I…I kinda miss you.’’ Harry says as best as he can, fingers twitching for a hug already. ‘’Miss my best mate.’’

Louis’ face just relaxes completely and his eyes soften so sweetly, all he needs are some seeds in the air and flowers would be blooming in the space between them. Just like that, he covers the distance between them and steps between Harry’s legs, squishing the boy’s face in his stomach.

Harry breathes in and his arms reach around above the small of Louis’ back and he hugs him as tightly as he could. He feels Louis’ fingers digging into his hair, his other arm around the top of his back and fingers pressing on the meat of his shoulder and just like that, flowers are blooming in his chest in bright colors.

‘’I miss you too, Haz. You have no idea how much.’’ Louis says shakily. ‘’Miss taking care of you. Miss kissing your forehead goodnight. I’m so sorry, love.’’

Harry doesn’t know he’s crying until he feels a sob leave his lips and he cannot let go now, has no idea how he ever did it in the first place.

‘’Hey, no crying.’’ Louis coos even though Harry is sure he is on the verge of tears too, if the shakiness in his voice is anything to go by. ‘’Haz, c’mon.’’

Harry shakes his head and continues to bury his sniffles and hitches in Louis’ stomach. He misses this like a phantom limb and he didn’t know how much it hurt until he got it back, solid and whole between his arms.

‘’Haz, look at me.’’ Louis doesn’t wait; just moves his head up with the firm grip he has on Harry’s hair until Harry’s chin is resting on his stomach and his green eyes are on his blue ones.

‘’You did well in giving me space.’’ Louis tells him softly. ‘’I know it hurt for you to do it. I know it wasn’t fair for me to shout those horrible things to you and I am so sorry for that. You didn’t deserve it. But you did good, babe. You’re such a good person and I do not deserve your friendship. But I do miss you.’’ He says quickly before Harry could bury his face back into Louis’ stomach, a new set of tears falling because he wants Louis back and he won’t allow him to say anything that will take that chance away. ‘’I want you back too, love. I want my best mate back.’’

Harry smiles his first smile of the day and he feels so energized by Louis’ words, so alive that he stands up and hugs Louis for real, arms around his shoulders, pulling him flush against him.

‘’Lou,’’ he cannot help but say as he buries his face in Louis’ neck. He feels giddy and happy and though there’s so much to do and say and talk about, he’ll hold unto this moment first and foremost, hold unto Louis so that together, they can stand firm and steady again.

 

-Harry sits Louis down, refusing to let him go back to his room and have his morning tea by his lonesome so there they are, eating breakfast together. There are a few awkward pauses, a few toes being stepped on as they try to dance their way back to each other’s pockets and find their rhythm but Harry does his best to balance things out and he can see that Louis is too. None of them are trying to write off the past six months but, just as quickly as they’d clicked back in the X-factor, they are just as fast in digging out where they have each buried themselves in the other, worming themselves back to familiar grounds.

Paul joins them for a brief moment when he hears their laughter from where he’d been on the phone in the hotel kitchen before he proceeds to leave them be, telling them they’ve got until 4 pm before they are to leave the hotel. Harry is glad because he’s not really ready to let Louis leave just yet. He listens attentively when Louis tells him the story he’d told the boys the night before, when they were backstage and when Harry finally gets all the details, he laughs properly, rather than the polite laugh he gave Niall when the lad tried to recount it.

‘’Hey, you sure you’re completely alright now?’’ Louis asks and Harry almost splutters when Louis reaches out a hand and massages Harry’s stomach gently. Louis is so kind and bless him, so concerned that Harry cannot help but sag a bit.

‘’I’m good. It was just a one night thing.’’ His voice is almost syrupy, like he cannot believe he’s got Louis’ attention again.

Louis doesn’t seem convinced that he’s one hundred percent alright though and proceeds to take away all dairy products from Harry’s side of the table away so that he can read the expiry date and make sure Harry doesn’t get food poisoning and heaven forbid, vomit his breakfast. Harry cannot help but feel exasperatedly fond and when he proceeds to tell Louis about the pizza he stupidly ate right before jumping on stage, Louis gives him the fondest and most chastising look ever, patting Harry’s stomach and pouting at Harry for making his body go through that.

It feels good, orbiting Louis again, having him back in his world. Louis asks him about his night outs but not in a worried or patronizing way but with gentle curiosity, like he’s wondering what he’d missed out on, what fun Harry had and the fascinating people he’d met.

Harry tells him about hanging out with Ed and his American friends, about the one friendly barman who asked him for a selfie and made him the best grapefruit and tomato mix drink ever which Louis wrinkled his face at. He shows Louis his new tattoos and glows at Louis’ complements and praises for his excellent choices.

They keep talking and talking well into lunch time and Harry orders for the both of them before they continue on talking, filling each other in on their lives and making up for lost time. At one point, they both get texts from the boys, asking them if they want to hang out and Louis replies with a ‘’no, thanks’’ to Liam’s inquiry just as Harry replies similarly to Niall and Zayn, both sharing a small smile when they tuck their phones aside. When they’re done with lunch, Paul texts them it’s time to get a move on so Harry escorts Louis back to his room and hugs him at the door a little too tightly and unnecessarily, which prompts them to laugh out loud because they’re going to see each other again right after they pack and check-out. Still, Harry cannot help but kiss the crown of Louis’ head several times before he lets the boy wiggle happily away.

Back in his bedroom though, it really sinks in. Being in Louis’ presence and proximity almost the whole day felt like being in a daze and just a few minutes without him has made his bubble snap. Sure, he’s got Louis back, that part is true no matter how many times he pinches himself, thinking it’s all a dream, but being touchy-feely with him might not be the way to start acting around him because he only got him back as a friend and nothing more.

He wonders if Louis squirming from his arms is just a cover up for him not wanting to be touched but afraid to show that side of himself to Harry. He wonders if Louis was just placating him because he wanted Harry back too, as a friend. It all crashes down when he realizes that Louis still doesn’t know that Harry heard a single word he’d said to him during his convalescence and now, it makes him feel guilty because he doesn’t want to take advantage of Louis’ trust.

Whatever bubble of happiness he’d felt in Louis’ presence is now gone, replaced by a cold feeling of dread. He doesn’t ever want his touches to affect Louis badly ever again, doesn’t want Louis to placate him. And maybe Louis is confident about wanting him back as his best mate –and God knows it won’t ever be enough but Harry is happy to have him back in at least some form – but he’s broken and beautiful and right now, Harry only can think of him as immensely precious. Louis may not have been able to say what he had said last night in broad day light but he did still say it; brought the words past his lips and slipped them out in the dead of night and Harry heard them. He heard those words and he will not dismiss them and for all of Louis’ brashness and courage and whatever it is that brought him walking into Harry’s hotel room, Harry is just realizing he’s going to have to be careful with him. He sees it now; it would be so easy slip into a relationship that can be so unfair, one where he lets Louis handle his touches in silence, accept them with no say, where he lets Louis never be able to admit his thoughts whilst looking him in the eye, one where he lets Louis allow him to take advantage of his absolute devotion and kindness, where he maybe touch him so easily and say words with no censor to them and Louis keeps giving in, keeps being the one to step forward and fix things. Harry knows that giving Louis space was the right thing to do, but he could very well take advantage of what’s next to come.

And he can’t do that. He can’t get any worse. So as he waits in the hallway for Louis to step out of his room and join him, Harry makes himself a promise. He will take care of Louis in return because Louis is the most precious thing to him, friend or lover, it doesn’t matter. Harry has to be responsible enough to put his feelings aside for once and put Louis’ first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i know it might look like L and H are not gonna be a couple again or smth but i think this progression is the right way to go for now and with that, all i can conclude with is this; patience my friends, that's all i have to say. patience


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here's an update. someone commented to me before about wanting to read Louis' perspective and I have finally come around to do it the way that I wanted so here it is. enjoy :D
> 
> warning: Self abuse of prescribed medication.

_''Never ending symptoms in my head_  
_We lay hollow in the emptiness''_

_Sia, space between_

 

 

-‘’Hey,’’ Louis interrupts softy, pausing at the door of the bus with a hand on Harry’s hip. It was a bit awkward in the elevators between them and Louis sensed it immediately, noted the shift in the air between them compared to the easy-going flow they had in Harry’s hotel room.

Harry’s lips thin as he stares at Louis with a bit of trepidation. He feels a bit torn, so rusty in reading what Louis really wants from him and what he needs and he doesn’t know how Louis can still do it, can still see right through him even after all these months.

‘’Don’t be weird, yeah?’’ Louis says when Harry remains silent. He’d been fidgety in the elevators, giving one-word answers and shrugs and half-smiles which he now sees was a dead-giveaway, making Louis immediately detect that something was wrong. Apparently he’s being too damn cautious, holding on to his decision to be extra careful with Louis that in doing so, he’s made it all awkward again.

‘’It’s just the boys; you don’t have to be nervous. For all we know, this might not be such a big deal to them as it was for us, alright?’’ Louis continues.

‘’Yeah,’’ Harry exhales because Louis does have a point. It matters to him what the boys would think but at the same time, he honestly hopes they don’t say anything about him and Louis being friends again.

‘’Hey,’’ Louis coos, because Harry still looks worried and that is just unacceptable. Louis moves his free hand so both hands are on Harry’s hips with a respectable distance between them, and yet, Harry can still feel the heat radiating from his body, like a magnet trying to draw him in. He gulps. He knows Louis’ touch is meant as nothing but friendly. Harry knows this, knows this is all he’s going to get and that he has to stop himself from drifting closer till their fronts are touching in a not so platonic way.

‘’Don’t be awkward around me, Haz.’’ Louis says softly, with a soft smile and soft eyes. He almost looks like he’s imploring. ‘’I know that’s easier said than done but…work with me here? Please?’’

And well, there won’t ever be a time where Harry does not do whatever it is Louis asks of him.

‘’Anything, Lou.’’ Harry nods, his chest easing up.

‘’Start with a smile and a few of your infamous knock, knock jokes?’’ Louis teases with an expectant smile of his own. It startles a surprised laugh out of Harry even as he tries to pout and give Louis one of his famous drawls of. ‘’Hey’’.

And that’s how it goes. The boys notice the shift immediately when they enter because it’s been forever since Harry and Louis went anywhere together, even simply arriving at the tour bus at the same time. Normally one arrives after the other or Louis stays in bus 1 with the crew.

Niall is the first to notice. They’re all in the lounge and Niall stops strumming his guitar when Louis and Harry sit down on the opposite couch from where he’s sitting, Harry talking a mile a minute, Louis smiling and sometimes giggling at him.

Liam was in the middle of taking a sip from his protein shake and his hand stops mid-air from bringing the flask to his lips. Zayn is sitting between him and Niall and ever so slightly, his eyes look up from his phone on his lap to the two boys, who up until six months ago, wouldn’t even be seen looking each other in the eye, let alone talking so animatedly and sitting so closely.

And boy, are they sitting close, Harry’s knees are clanking with Louis’, head tilted towards him like gravity and he’s smiling so big, both dimples are making an appearance.

But nothing beats the look on Louis’ face, nothing says ‘’soft, soft, soft’’ the way his face is flashing right now with the intensity of it.

Niall –and he’s sure the other two boys feel the same way- all but raises his eyebrows all the way to the roof of the bus when Louis, eyes not leaving Harry’s, picks up Harry’s legs and drapes them on his thighs before he sits back more comfortably on the couch. Harry doesn’t even stop talking and what’s worse, Louis doesn’t look like he was aware of what he just did. Niall has had enough.

‘’So,’’ Niall interrupts loudly, slapping the strings of his guitar with the palm of his hand. Louis and Harry’s bubble bursts as they both look up at their Irish friend. ‘’Back from the war zone? Can we officially announce a cease fire to the masses?’’

Harry glares at him in a poor attempt to hide the pink tint spread across his cheeks and Louis chuckles politely, an embarrassed flush making an appearance as well, that he tries to hide by rubbing the back of his neck with the hand not covering one of Harry’s knobby knees.

‘’It wasn’t a war zone.’’ Harry mutters with a pout.

‘’Right.’’ Zayn snorts before his eyes return to his phone.

‘’Well, I for one am glad you two are back to being friendly.’’ Liam announces, ever the diplomat before his eyes turn puppy soft. ‘’It’s good to see.’’

Louis seems to melt at the words in gratitude and Harry smiles shyly at him. Niall has to admit and from the quirk of a small smile on Zayn’s lips, he is sure that the raven-haired boy whole-heartedly agrees to that statement too.

 

-‘’Lou, what word can I make with these tiles?’’ Harry asks as he tilts his head up and looks at Louis from where his head is perched on two fluffy pillows near Louis’ hip. They had just finished another show and were now lounging in the bus, all five of them in addition to Josh, Dan Richards, Lou and Deo, Niall’s cousin. It’s a bit rowdy but Louis doesn’t mind since he is in the company of friendly and familiar faces.

What makes him also comfortable is that Harry was mind-blowing on stage tonight and not at all as stagnant and sickly as Louis thought he would be after their previous performance. It was such a massive wake-up call for him. He hadn’t been doing very well in the time he and Harry decided to call it quits and as much as he needed some time to recover, he didn’t think his friendship with Harry would collapse so badly.

It had hit him though, seeing Harry so ill and fighting to stay awake and strong throughout their busy schedule, how much he’d neglected their friendship and how his care for Harry hadn’t vanished in the wake of their distance. He couldn’t bring himself to ignore the lad anymore that night in the tour bus, when he and the boys heard the sound of Harry’s whimpering and groans. When they’d approached his bunk, they found him drowning in his own sweat, head barely peaking from under his blankets, forehead creased and pale lips quivering, shaky pants pouring out unsteadily as he shivered profusely from the fever raking his body. No amount of time separated from Harry, Louis realized, would ever make him walk away when his boy looked like that, weak and frail, body in desperate need of gentle hands to let him know he wasn’t suffering alone.

Honestly, he didn’t realize how much he’s missed the easy-going friendship he had with Harry, how much of the tension between them had grown stifling and how the distance, as much as he needed it, was now downright unbearable until that natural pull towards Harry, that gravity-like pull that had him know how much he was gone for him, intensified in the wake of Harry’s illness.

Louis himself had been struggling immensely –and still is- and not just from what that awful night with Harry after their clubbing had triggered. His flashbacks were more frequent now, to the point where it would hit him even when he was wide awake or in the middle of doing something. He could hardly finish reading a whole page sometimes without spacing out or jolting from a horrifying memory that has suddenly decided to creep up on him. He doesn’t blame Harry, he really honestly doesn’t, and enough time has passed and though he is nowhere close to resolving his issues, he knows for certain that he wants to be by Harry’s side again.

He realizes this and the first thing he thinks of it is how selfish he is. First he pushes Harry away and now he wants him back simply to use as an armor to hide behind, as a means to distract him from his creeping thoughts. He needs someone to tether him to the present, to remind him that what he has now is worth staying for. He knows it might not work but with his sudden, desperate reliance on the pills, he thinks it’s better than nothing.

Without telling Jay or anyone, he’s decided to increase his dose intake. It’s not good, he knows this. He knows he shouldn’t abuse them but he is sick of drowning in his own head. He wants to just be numb and present for once, even if it stops him from feeling anything.

Which is probably why he had stopped noticing anything about Harry, or more precisely, why he had stopped noticing that after snapping at the poor lad, Harry had actually…backed off?

It was a hard pill to swallow, –pun not intended- especially because he had caused it. And maybe it’s where the confession came from, like a means to get Harry’s attention again or maybe there’s a stronger reason but regardless, when the words passed his lips, it felt like some sort of a small salvation in a way. It didn’t even matter that Harry was barely awake and didn’t get to hear it because in the end, all he could think of was the fact that he got the words out for what seemed like the first time in years and if he could do it once, maybe it wouldn’t be so terrifying doing it again.

It just felt like the reason why things had turned so awful between them was the fact that he simply couldn’t trust himself enough to tell Harry the truth. No matter how much he loved him, he had years under his belt of shutting his feelings off behind a steel vault, years of not trusting people easily because many people had hurt him and those people were figures he trusted and they betrayed him. They betrayed him so badly.

With Harry though, hell, even with the lads, he could no longer tolerate the idea of pushing and pushing, prodding at them with pitched forks so they could leave him be. See, they were his friends, his own friends and the further he realized this, the further it made no sense to push them away. Sure, he won’t let them in so easily, but the self-instilled isolation has made him feel so achingly lonely, the numbness from the pills he takes behind closed doors hindering any sort of emotion and he just couldn’t take anymore the feeling of them slipping away from him just as he was slipping away from them. Worse, seeing Harry being put in a metaphorical corner was detrimental to his own state of mind. He never wanted Harry to feel as adrift as him, to go out there in search of himself as if he lost all confidence in his own identity and needed to find it in others. He’s beautiful on his own and he doesn’t need strangers to make him look good, they’d say anything, or to be told that he’s gorgeous and wonderful from people vying for his attention rather than actually meaning it.

He hates everything that was said about Harry in the newspapers, hates how they called him a slag, how he had apparently slept with women twice his age. It was preposterous and downright unkind and it hurt him as much as it hurt leaving him in the bus in Paul’s care.

He didn’t sleep a wink all night, and he realized when he woke up the next day from a fitful sleep, that it was time to put an end to his circle of isolation.

Right now, it feels like the decision is not one he regrets. From the start of the day, it seemed more and more like it was the right thing to do. He had missed mother-Henning the lad, missed taking care of him. Before they went on stage, he convinced Harry to drink a cup of his famed concoction so that he doesn’t feel queasy and risk throwing up again. Harry rolled his eyes at him and flushed out of embarrassment but Louis wouldn’t let him get away and almost fed him the mug himself whenever Harry set it aside, insisting Harry drink it while it’s still hot. He also forced the lad to change shirts whenever he started to break a sweat because he didn’t want Harry’s skin to get all wet and risk catching a cold. He could see Harry exasperated by all of it but he didn’t care.

Of course when they got off stage, the boys teased him mercilessly about it but Harry just pulled his hand and led the way to the showers so they can clean up –separately of course – before they headed for the tour bus.

Now, nothing’s changed. They usually recap on the show after they’ve settled in, still high from the adrenaline and Niall is adamant about bringing up every embarrassing thing Louis’ done all night, much to Harry’s amusement.

‘’Oh God, I caught you actually frowning when Harry sneezed and you just left Dan here hanging mid-talk! Mid-talk, man, what gives?’’ Niall laughs before he turns to Deo, who seems just as amused. ‘’And then he walked up to Harry to offer him a towel! Bloody hooked, man. That was just too much.’’ Niall cackles and Louis turns crimson.

‘’Oh mate, I saw that. Fucking brilliant when Dan just stood there, gaping at his retreating back.’’ Josh joins. Everybody is laughing then and well, he may have been a tad too much but Harry didn’t mind, never said anything about it all through the show.

‘’Louuuu,’’ said boy now whines from where he’s lying down, the crown of his head butting his hip. Harry’s been doing excellently at ignoring the boys’ jabs, pulling up his phone and playing online scrabble with his mom. ‘’Look at the tiles, will you? Mom’s going to beat me if I don’t put a word and I refuse to pass my turn. I refuse.’’

Louis sighs and looks at the phone. His cups Harry’s hand, the one holding the phone up, so he can tilt it at a better angle, while the other one mindlessly twirls with one of Harry’s locks.

‘’Um, how about the word vida? Like the Coldplay song?’’ he suggests. Harry has got tough letters and too many vowels so he can’t be picky.

‘’Ignoring us won’t change what happened tonight,’’ Niall sing-songs but Louis decides to follow Harry by example and ignore their Irish friend, making a face at him before returning his attention to Harry. Said lad looks contemplative.

‘’But it’s not an English word is it?’’ Harry asks and from his position, he has to tilt his head up to peer at Louis, fluttering his eyelashes innocently.

‘’Good point,’’ Louis agrees and peers at the phone again. It’s nice to have something else to focus on, or more precisely, someone worth focusing on. He hadn’t taken a single pill the whole day and though he is buzzing anxiously, it’s all under his skin and not simmering on the surface. It’s not one-hundred percent perfect but it will have to do.

‘’Lovesick,’’ Zayn mutters loudly and this time, he and Harry look up at him.

‘’What? Look at both of you, back for only one day and already acting like an old-married couple.’’ Niall says with an air of annoyance, which doesn’t go with the mirth in his eyes. Then again he’s drunk, which means the mirth could definitely be the alcohol.

‘’You do know that I’m playing scrabble against mom and he’s merely helping me out.’’ Harry points.

‘’Oh, how is Anne? Alright?’’ Liam butts in, ever the pacifist and Harry proceeds to tell Liam about his mom’s stories from back home and about some reality show they’re missing out on back in England while Louis plucks the phone from Harry’s lax fingers, ignores the paperback on his lap and finishes the game against Anne.

‘’Sorry, love. She beat me.’’ Louis says sadly as he hands the phone back to Harry. The lad pouts but then he’s turning around unto his stomach, his legs crossing in the air as his face lights up.

‘’Ohhh, she’s asking for a rematch, let’s beat her this time.’’ And so, all night, they remain like that, heads leaning against each other, peering down at the phone as they play online scrabble against Anne. Whatever unease Louis has about telling the lads the truth about them being only friends again and nothing more diffuses with Harry’s easy-going attitude towards the whole situation. He wants to tell them and by Zayn’s glances and Liam’s neutrality, he has a feeling they know they’re not back to being a couple but more like back to being just best mates. It just feels so good being back in Harry’s company and occupying his mind with good things that he doesn’t mind putting off making anything official. He hopes when Niall is sober enough, the other lads will tell him to take it easy with his comments and not treat them like the couple they were because as much as he liked that time, where he was all loved-up in Harry’s arms, he’s honestly not ready for it, at least until they’re back home and away from prying eyes.

 

_-‘’ Louis is awoken from his sleep when a body dips behind him and suddenly he is being carried from the scatter of his math homework and the warmth of his blankets that he took with him to the couch to study.  He must have fallen asleep studying again and now, he feels a warm body pressing him in, almost like trying to fold him in half and he knows, without opening his eyes, that it’s his old man. The familiar scent of liquor is also a dead-give away and so he squeezes his eyes shut, stays immobile in the man’s arms and pretends to still be asleep. It doesn’t take long to reach his room since it’s the nearest one in the hall but he hopes his old man is not too drunk he could sway and drop him because then, he won’t be able to pretend._

_Louis hears the scary groan of his bedroom door being opened. His father had mentioned that it has a loose hinge that needs to be oiled but he never came around to do it and Louis would do it himself but he has yet to find a means to get money for the oil so he lets it be, isn’t really too bothered by it, until now, until the sound is singing the fine, baby hairs at the back of his neck with electricity. Heavy footsteps follow on the creaky floorboards and before he knows it, he’s being lowered to his bed._

_It’s been a while since his dad has done something nice for him, even just tucking him in, even though he is fourteen and will be turning fifteen in five months, it still feels good. After their mom had left them, his dad had been distant, resorting to alcohol when he thought his kids weren’t looking and growing solemn and sallow with each passing day. He’d also been quite snappy at Louis, especially when he asks money for groceries or to pay their landlord to fix their heating. Louis didn’t like the snappiness but what he hated more was when his dad’s eyes turned from flashing with irritation and annoyance to flashing to something dark and it made Louis scared so he decided to back off. His dad was probably mourning the loss of his wife and when Louis found out that he has also been struggling at work, he’s decided not to ask about the money too much. It was better that way._

_Now though, now, he thought his father would leave and let him sleep but then he realizes that his old man hasn’t left the room, is just there, sitting on his bed. The good feeling vanishes as the minutes tick away and he feels an intense gaze settle over him. He wonders if maybe it’s because his blankets are still on the couch downstairs leaving him shivery and causing goose bumps to erupt on his skin or maybe it’s because his old man is just sitting there, on the edge of his bed, watching him sleep._

_Louis stays as still as stone, wondering if maybe his dad is contemplating their lives and what it has turned into, wondering if his dad feels guilty about ignoring the fact that he still has two mouths to feed, two lives to live for. He also wonders why he feels afraid all of a sudden._

_His questions are answered when a hand moves over his t-shirt clad body, grazing his stomach till it’s touching his chest. The hand moves back and forth, up and down, from his navel to his collarbones and he feels wrong about this, like something is definitely not right, and honest to God, he has no idea how on earth he remains still when his father's fingertips start playing with his right nipple._

‘’Louis.’’

_Louis wonders if he is imagining things. Maybe his brain is just tired from studying or maybe he is already asleep and this is just a dream. But then the fingers don’t stop moving and he tries to pretend to still be sleeping, hoping his father will soon get bored and leave him be._

_His father teases his left nipple then moves back to the right. His hand wanders again after, up and down until they settle on his neck, his palm big and scary on his Adam’s apple. He tries not to swallow, knowing it’s a dead give-away but he feels a zing of fear split his spine when his father applies the slightest pressure on his neck, fingers closing in._

_‘’God, I could crush you,’’ his father whispers and even though his hand leaves his neck and moves back down to his chest, spreading his fingers over his breastbone, the fear running up and down his spine doesn’t leave him. Louis is properly scared now._

‘’Lou, wake up.’’

_Louis feels nauseous just thinking about his dad crushing him, that his father would actually contemplate the idea, say those words out loud in the dead of night like some sort of pleasurable wishful thinking. The words, ‘’leave, leave,’’ run in his mind like a tape recorder, because he knows he is going to break down and he doesn’t want to do it with his father still in his room. He also wants to hug Leo and seek some comfort from him, soak into some of his innocence for the night._

_‘’I want to crush you so bad. I’m so fucking lonely, Lou. I’m so mad.’’ Those words slur in the air and echo in the dark and he honestly feels his heart skip a beat for so long, he wonders if he actually died for a second there. Strike that; when his father’s hand dips beneath the waist band of his pants, he is quite sure he actually died._

‘’Wake up, Lou.’’

Louis wakes up with a jolt. He takes two deep, unsettling breaths, his eyes wide and staring at the ceiling of the bunk bed above him before he swallows and looks at the figure hovering above him.

‘’Lou, you’re as white as a ghost,’’ Harry says, eyebrows furrowed with concern but Louis doesn’t give a shit because Harry’s hand is on his chest, dangerously near his neck and Louis really needs to breath. He sits up shakily, pushing Harry’s hand away and wipes the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. His dreams are getting more and more intense and maybe it’s because deep down, he knows they are not dreams. Fuck, his hands are shaking. He needs a pill.

He hides his hands under the hem of the blanket and looks at Harry, who’s got an intense, worried look on him.

‘’You alright?’’ Harry asks and Louis realizes he hasn’t said a word yet.

‘’Fine,’’ Louis says curtly and then remembers him and Harry are friends again and that he should be nicer. ‘’Just surprised. Not used to…us being…close again…you know…’’

‘’Oh,’’ Harry’s face turns understanding and quite relieved, which Louis is glad to see, even though his hands are still fucking shaking under the sheets and he hopes to God Harry cannot feel it from where he’s sitting so damn close. ‘’That makes sense. Sorry, um, breakfast?’’

‘’Yes, thank you.’’ Louis is grateful because he needed a diversion and is glad Harry is smart enough to give it to him. Harry smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes and he looks like he has more to say but then he just nods and walks away.

Louis releases the breathe he’d been holding and lets it out, shuddering into space. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. He knows he won’t be able to stop his hands from shaking if he doesn’t do it so, with a heavy sigh, he gets on with it.

He carefully plucks the bottle of pills from the pocket of his sweatpants, opens it, and dumps four pills into his hand. Two is what he’d been prescribed and only when needed and only once a day but he pushes that in the back of his mind as he tosses them into his mouth, throwing his head back. He then picks up his bottle of water from under his bunk and drinks, washing down the pills.

Louis sits back and waits. He’s not worried about Harry or any of the boys coming to ask for him again as four pills, compared to just two, usually only takes a moment. Louis closes his eyes as his breathing slows involuntarily. He sighs when his hands finally stop shaking, not completely but enough for him to get up and for the boys not to notice a damn thing.

He goes to the bathroom and relives himself and when he looks up at the mirror while washing his hands, he blinks rapidly several times because his reflection is slightly blurry but he stares nonetheless.

He pupils are dilated, his eyes dark and everything feels so muted, to the point that when he swallows, the noise seems impossibly loud. He looks spacey and distant in general and he knows it’s going to be a slow day for him as the pills usually slow him down both physically and mentally. But hey, at least he’s not panicking, so it’s worth it.

He isn’t quite sure how much time passes until he hears Zayn calling his name and so with another sigh and a last look at himself in the mirror, he gets out and walks to the front door of the tour bus. They’re at some fancy breakfast place and when he enters, the door jingles loudly. He sees Zayn’s retreating figure and follows him to where he and the boys are sitting in a large booth. Cal is sitting next to Harry and the only seat available is between him and Niall.

 ‘’Good morning,’’ he slurs and hopes it doesn’t come out too dopey, makes sure to tack a smile along with it so as not to raise suspicion. The boys greet him and the warm smell of breakfast food would have been enticing if not for how detached he feels. Still, he’s glad he is not shaking too much to not be able to hold the silverware. God knows how many night he’d gone to bed without dinner simply because he couldn’t eat from too much trembling.

 He doesn’t focus on the conversations around him and is glad he is not the only one too sleepy for anything more than hushed voices. Harry smiles at him a lot, like he’s trying to coax him into a hushed conversation and he feels guilty for not being able to smile back; too slow to catch it, too late to return it and too tired to mean it.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here's an update. its a bit intense.
> 
> warning: self-abuse of prescribed medication, hallucinations, severe mental thoughts.

_''When I was a child, I heard voices. Some would sing and some would scream. You soon find you have few choices. I learned the voices died with me.''_  
_-Hozier, Arsonist’s Lullabye_

 

 

They’ve got a week left of the U.S. leg of the tour before they go back to London for their break and their movie premiere and well, it feels like a lifetime ago, even though it was only six months since he and Harry had been in a proper relationship. Now, with Harry’s smiles continuously making an appearance throughout their day and him starting to somewhat feel normal again, he wonders if they’ll make up for lost time properly, wonders if the pills will help him not freak out so much.

 

‘’Hey, Lou?’’

Louis looks up from where his eyes were glued to his phone. They’re in their SUV, just got picked up from Heathrow. He and Harry are together in the front whereas Liam, Zayn and Niall are in the backseat. It’s not even past midnight yet but the three boys behind them are quiet, and Louis is sure that at least two of them are fast asleep. Harry, on the other hand, looks alert and nervous, something he hasn’t seen in a while.

It’s been tentative between them those first couple of days after they made up but steadily and smoothly, they wormed their way back into each other’s pockets. It took a while for Harry to simply put his arm around Louis’ shoulders, to draw him in for a cuddle and Louis didn’t like seeing such hesitance in his eyes, didn’t like Harry shrinking back into a corner.

So, he gave back a little, just enough for Harry to know that it’s truly alright between them.

It started when Louis would sit right next to him backstage even though there were other seats available, with more room and all. It started with him pecking Harry’s temple when the boys would tease him about a lame knock, knock joke he wanted to share with them. It started with Louis drawing Harry into a hug and telling him he is so proud to be his best mate again. It didn’t take Harry more than a day to be his complete and utter self again.

Their staff and crew should have seen it coming when Louis and Harry started doing pranks again, causing chaos in hotel rooms and in the car park. But they were not blind; they know that there had been some sort of rift between them and to see them back made them smile quietly to themselves and let the boys be before they had to really intervene and stop them from making a nuisance of themselves.

Honestly, it had been one of the best two weeks of Louis’ life.

Harry never brought up the car park incidence but he did ask Louis to stay in a hotel room with them, citing many a colorful reason;

‘’The view up there is really lovely, Lou. You have to see it.’’

‘’We’ve got a movie marathon, c’mon you can’t miss it.’’

‘’The mini bar has got pistachios, Louis. Pistachios!’’

Louis knew what he was trying to do and so he promised himself that he won’t sleep in the car park since it obviously really upset Harry. However, he still opted for the single room and at this, Harry had no say and Louis was grateful. He didn’t want Harry waking up to his tossing and turning, to his walking back and forth by his bed trying to tire himself out, to his gulping down four tiny pills just so that he can numb himself enough to fall back asleep. He wonders if maybe the reason he’s having a hard time relaxing is because when he’s left alone to his thoughts, with no Harry or the boys to keep him occupied or to loosen him up, that’s when the creepy thoughts emerge. Still, he cannot risk Harry seeing that, or seeing the pity in his green eyes if he wakes up to Louis trembling from head to toe.

Now, he’s glad it’s over. He’s got high hopes for relaxing behind the walls of his London home, a place of safety and not strange white walls that always seem to close in on him when he least expects it.

And then he is looking up at Harry and wondering why the boy looks nervous when he should be sleepy happy to be on his way home.

‘’Haz?’’

‘’I want to ask you something, if that’s alright.’’ Harry says, eyes looking down, fingers fiddling in his lap.

‘’Well, go on.’’ Louis encourages and places an arm around Harry’s shoulders to draw him in. Harry smiles and Louis will always wonder how Harry could be so grateful just from a simple gesture.

‘’Am I allowed home? With you?’’ Harry asks, with big wide eyes and genuine worry in his voice. It hits Louis as he sits back to look at Harry properly, that this has been something that was truly bothering the green-eyed lad with the soft lips and rosy cheeks and now that he thinks about it, he wonders how it had slipped his mind that he had actually kicked this warm-hearted boy out of their shared place.

Wrought with guilt, he draws Harry in for a tight embrace and buries his face in his shoulder.

‘’God, Haz, I’m so sorry I forgot. Of course you’re allowed back. It’s your home too.’’ He pulls back to look at Harry’s face and the worry is still there. ‘’Honestly, I just assumed you’ll walk in with me, I didn’t think about it too much. I’m sorry.’’

‘’I just, I don’t want to crowd you, Louis. I don’t want you to feel unsafe in your own house and…’’ Harry’s voice cracks and no, Louis cannot have that.

‘’Hey, it’s our house.’’ Louis interrupts sternly. ‘’And it’s over, I forgave you, I forgave you the minute it happened, okay? I was just upset that it happened at all and we’re good now, okay? We’re better than ever, right?’’

‘’Right.’’ Harry agrees with a watery smile but Louis can see right through him, can see that a real ‘right’ with Harry means something more than friends, something Louis wants too but does not want to rush it. He acts like he hasn’t noticed.

‘’Okay then,’’ Louis pecks his forehead and keeps Harry within his embrace. It’s nice to be in this position again, where he is the one comforting Harry and letting him know that everything between them is alright.

 

-The next morning, it’s still alright.

Louis wakes up to the smell of bacon and eggs, to a kettle brewing, to a cup of tea waiting to be filled and an aroma of Yorkshire waiting to fill the air. Most importantly, he wakes up to the sight of Harry in his tiny, black briefs sitting at the kitchen table playing scrabble. It’s a familiarity he has dreadfully missed and as Louis takes a deep breath, he wonders when the last time he actually breathed was.

It’s three days of finding their footing, three days of shedding their jetlag off and three days of movies and quiet cuddles that needed no prompting, just falling into it so seamlessly like falling into the pull of gravity. Louis misses the warmth, misses the solidity of a person who knows exactly how to hug him, how to dwell in his silence, how to find quiet joy in the little things like sharing an afternoon tea or doing mundane chores like the laundry or cooking up lunch for two. Harry feels like a safety net, and every goodnight kiss on the forehead Louis gives him has the same meaning behind every morning kiss he gives him on the cheek; _I love you, thank you for waiting, I’m sorry, glad to have you back, don’t ever doubt it, here’s a kiss to prove it._ And by the glowing look on Harry’s face and the dimple that appears from the cheek he just kissed, he figures the lad understands it all completely and knows that they will be alright.

 

Day four and it’s not alright.

 

Louis wakes up with a strangled gasp, head pounding with ghosts and hands too shaky to reach for his pills. He stays burrowed in the sheets and when his mind gets too loud with phantom noises, he starts muttering, ‘It’s going to be okay,’ over and over until Louis starts to believe it and there are no scary images of grimy hands and filthy lips on his skin left.

 When he’s capable of going downstairs, he sees that Harry’s bright yellow sneakers are gone. He also finds the kitchen empty, which means that Harry is out for a run. It’s early anyways and the boy is probably on his way back so it won’t take long before the silence is filled with noise. He, on the other hand, is quite tired and he would like to go back to sleep but he’d rather wait for Harry’s return instead. So, he prepares a meager breakfast of cereal and tea and sits at the kitchen table. It’s too quiet and the noises in his head, the ones he usually tries to stifle with his pills, are starting to slowly creep up on him again.

Louis closes his eyes and takes a deep breathe, tries to rein it in. See, unlucky for him, his bottle of pills came up empty today and it’s too soon to go out and have a refill but boy, what he’d do to get a heavy dose right now.

 He tries to savor the quiet, tries to let it fill him with calmness rather than dread. In the career he’s in, it’s rare to have a quiet morning without fans acting as his personal alarm clock or Paul banging on his door so he tries to appreciate the silence. He finishes his breakfast and is on his second cup of tea but honestly, it’s useless. He’s just sitting there and yet, he feels sick and the tea he is sipping suddenly brings a wave of nausea, his heart racing and sweat forming across his forehead.

 He starts to wonder if he is actually awake, if maybe he’s still dreaming and in his dream he’s standing upside down and not upright at all. The noises in his head are getting louder and louder and he needs to do something. He gets up so fast, the chair rocks and falls backwards with a shattering noise. Louis drops his mug in the sink, with every intention to wash it but then a gust of wind moves up his spine and when he looks over his shoulder…shit.

Louis does not scream but he sure releases a sound akin to it and he knows he can be fast if he wants to be but he has no idea how his feet were able to move him from the kitchen to the bathroom so quickly. Regardless, he is freaking out and he needs to drown the noises. He turns on the shower at full blast and lets the water calm him down and wash the tremors away from his body.

He hasn’t felt like this in a long, long time. He used to be in a bad place inside his head, a much worse place than where his state of mind currently is, but at the rate he’s going, what with conjuring up images of his brother walking into his kitchen in Mickey Mouse Pajamas and waving at Louis with an innocent smile, followed by the shadow of a sallow man, he’ll be right back there, choking on ghosts again.

 He doesn’t know how long he stays there until he hears a tentative knock on the door. Geez, that was bloody fast.

‘’Hey, Lou. Can I come in? I need a towel.’’

Louis nods then realizes Harry is behind the door and therefore, unable to see him. He swallows before he clears his voice.

‘’Y-yeah, Haz. Come in.’’ his voice echoes across the tiles and that’s when he realizes he’s trembling. The water is freaking cold and he is sitting on the shower floor, his clothes drenched through and through. It’s too late to say anything as Harry walks in and he can only hope the lad cannot really see what’s going on behind the glass of the shower door.

‘’You okay in there?’’ Harry asks as he opens one of their cupboards. Louis does not answer immediately; his lips trembling and probably already an ugly shade of blue.

‘’Lou?’’

Louis hears the cupboard close so that means Harry’s supposed to go out now. Louis turns off the water but remains seated on the floor.

It’s a minute before Louis realizes that Harry hasn’t left the room yet. He needs to do something about that.

‘’Don’t you need a shower, Haz?’’

He hears a throat clearing. ‘’Uh, yeah. I was already upstairs but found I had no towel so I came down here, and.’’

‘’I see.’’

Harry is still inside the room and the draft coming from the open door is not helping Louis’ chattering teeth and cold skin.

‘’Lou…’’

‘’I’m fine.’’ Louis interrupts as firmly as he can. ‘’Just give me a second. I’ll be right out, I promise.’’

It’s another minute of trembling and trying not to squeeze cold water out of his clothes. Nonetheless, he finally hears Harry’s footsteps stepping away.

‘’We’re going to talk about this when you’re done.’’ Harry says before he walks out.

Shit.

 

Harry is still in the shower in the upstairs bathroom by the time Louis comes out. He leaves his drenched clothes in the hamper and goes upstairs, bundled up in his bath robe and changes into a ratty undershirt, a thick lilac jumper, new boxer briefs and black sweats. He puts on thick socks, dries his hair into a mess then goes to the kitchen and makes two cups of tea. His hands are still trembling so Louis does his best to keep them occupied. By the time the tea’s ready; he sets two mugs of tea on the coffee table and waits in the living room.

He turns on the telly and busies himself with turning from one channel to another, in desperate need for a distraction from the storm heading his way.

Even when Harry is already right next to the couch, wet hair dripping and in similar comfortable clothes, he doesn’t let his eyes unglue from the telly.

‘’Why were you in the shower with all your clothes on?’’ Harry asks quietly. Louis does not tighten his jaws but he feels his fingers crushing in on his mug that he’d picked up and the remote in his other hand so he sets those on the coffee table and folds his legs to his chest.

Harry sighs. He approaches Louis but simply bends to pick up the remote and turn off the telly. He picks up his mug of tea and sits next to Louis. They’re not touching but Harry is sitting facing him, one leg folded so he can be comfortable.

‘’It’s been three days. And even before that, you think I don’t notice how often you’ve been taking your pills more than usual? How blank your eyes usually are, even when you’re right in front of me?’’ Harry asks quietly. He doesn’t sound angry and well, Louis doesn’t know why he expected anger from Harry but he did which is weird and it makes him sad.

‘’Haz…’’

‘’I heard you that night,’’ Harry continues, and when Louis picks his head up from where his chin was resting on his knees, he sees soft, kind eyes and concerned green irises.

‘’If that’s what this is about. I heard everything you said.’’

Louis nods like a robot, hoping it conveys how not panicking he is even though he feels his core shaking with awful dread. Harry heard everything, and though that is an almighty blow, it’s physically painful to not be tucked under Haz’s arm so that he can seek comfort and well, isn’t that weird, to want to seek comfort from the man causing his discomfort? Louis shifts his eyes around the room nervously, folding his arms under his tucked-up knees and suddenly hoping Harry could hug him. He notices Haz inspecting him from his peripheral vision and there’s a slight frown on his brow and he thinks he might throw up. Somehow he gets himself to look up at him properly.

‘’I told myself that if I could do it once, I could do it again.’’ Louis says. ‘’What do you think?’’

‘’I think whenever you’re ready to talk to me, just shoot.’’ Harry answers immediately, like he’d prepared his reply. ‘’I just wanted you to know that I can meet you half way there, is all.’’

Louis nods because Harry is making sense and that’s a good thing. One of them needs to be the sane one. Louis lowers his arms a bit and holds his right ankle with his left hand and vice versa.

‘’I don’t want to make you feel bad but I don’t feel up for it right now. I think I need to take it in, what you just said.’’

Harry looks at him like he’d grown two heads.

‘’Why do you always think I want you to tell me stuff for my sake? I don’t care if you make me feel bad or not, Lou. I can’t hold you accountable for every tidbit you have to say to me, good or bad and besides, don’t you think it’s up to me to choose whether I’ll feel bad or not?’’

Louis doesn’t reply, just stares at nothing while he listens to Harry continue to make sense.

‘’I care about you, so much. Why can’t you care about yourself, about what you feel, about what you’ll feel after telling me or any other person you choose? It doesn’t have to be me, you know. It has to do with your comfort, after all, not the person you’re telling stuff to. Do you understand?’’

Louis doesn’t give anything away. He doesn’t tell Harry there is no other person he knows that won’t judge him the way he knows Harry will never do. He doesn’t tell him that Harry is probably the only person he’s going to ever come this close to telling. Doesn’t remind him that he had said he loved him that night and for a pretty good reason.

‘’I still can’t do this right now,’’ Louis ends up saying.

Harry nods. ‘’Alright.’’

He looks solemn and maybe a bit unhappy at this turn of events and Louis, no matter what Harry’s just said, still finds it easier to look out for Harry’s feelings than his own.

‘’Do you still love me?’’ Louis blurts out. ‘’Like, in the more than friend way?’’

And he must know, right, that Louis is not asking this as a diversion or as a test, but because he’s scared of becoming less of the person that he is in Harry’s eyes.

Still, Harry pauses, almost causing Louis to retreat to his room before he answers. ‘’Of course I do, Lou. Never will change my mind about you, no matter what you say.’’

Louis wishes he’d said it a different way, but then he realizes he’s being difficult for nothing.

‘’I need to fill my prescription.’’

Harry’s jaws harden and Louis refuses to look at him directly after that.

It’s a few intense minutes after when Harry finishes his tea, probably drinking it simply to relax. Louis honestly didn’t mean to say it but he figured this was also the only way he and Harry can sit through what Harry is asking, what Louis has finally decided to do. When he’s done, Harry picks up both mugs and heads to the kitchen. It’s a sign when after the tap’s closed and Harry hasn’t come out yet, that he is giving Louis a chance to escape.

 

Louis takes it.

 

He gets up and walks upstairs to his room, wondering when he became such a coward. It feels like the walls are closing in on him and he feels distraught, like he’s going to fly out of his skin and explode like a bird shot in the sky. Without giving it any more thought, he puts on a thick jacket, a pair of sunglasses then heads downstairs.

Harry is still in the kitchen, probably unable to face a person who cannot sit through a fucking conversation and talk about his damn feelings without knocking back a pill. God, he hates himself so much because it’s so fucking true.

Nonetheless, he puts on his vans, picks up his keys and wallet and leaves the house.

 

He doesn’t come back for three days.

 

He ignores all of Harry’s calls, all of the boys’ calls, all of his text messages and tries to fucking find his balls between his legs so that he can go back to Harry and fucking stop scratching himself raw at the hotel he’s checked himself in.

 He doesn’t know how he did it, how he just went to the nearest drug store he could find to fill his prescription, then walked the hell away from there and into a hotel in the heart of the dodgiest part of London, where no one will find him because he’s turned into a needle in a haystack.

 As soon as he’s done the check-in at the hotel counter, as soon as the door to his hotel room slams shut, the quiet is back and this time, he honestly cannot take it. He falls down on the carpeted floor, sobbing into his sleeves. The walls seem to be pushing in on him and the room is getting smaller and smaller, and he doesn’t have enough air in his lungs.

 He hates to admit it, admit the fact that Harry’s touches that night were so strong and overwhelming; it triggered something big, and not just a memory. He’s been having these panic attacks more often than not since then, stemming out of memories Louis didn’t think he had, didn’t think really happened. He doesn’t know if it’s real or if he’s just forgotten them but they leave him bruised and aching, like now, dying for the truth or for it to simply be over, whatever ‘it’ is.

 He doesn’t know how much time passes before he realizes he is still in the same state; curled up into a ball by the hardwood door, still swaying and trembling, tears still streaming down his face. He then remembers the reason he came here and what he has in his pocket. He can barely breathe and he cannot stop crying but apparently the one thing he can do is crawl towards the jug of complementary water on the bedside table, pop four pills at once from his newly-bought purchase and wash them down in water.

 

If only he could wash everything else away.

 

His mind drifts off after that and he imagines what would happen if he were to call Harry to come and pick him up, only to see him in the hazy state he’s in. He doesn’t know if the curly-haired angel will forgive him, let alone wake up to pick up his call. Would he even answer after Louis practically ran away from him?

He finds it funny when he realizes how he has never stopped running, how this is no different than what he’s done for the last five to six years of his life; running from his dad, running from the hospital, running from the police, running from the orphanage, from the loony bin, running, running, running, always running. There’s no point in trying to deny the fact that he did the same to Harry, only this time, it wasn’t because he was out of place and didn’t belong. On the contrary, he found a dwelling place in the boy’s heart all those months ago, a place he could see himself calling home, a place he fitted into like a glove, and it fucking terrified him so much he needed to run to another corner of the earth and hide.

Everywhere he’d been, he found no future and now, for the first time in his life, Harry is offering him one, which means feeling all the more terrified of losing it. He hasn’t moved on; that much he can admit. He cannot build a future with anyone when there is so much left unsaid. He’s drowning again and what’s worse, Harry will easily hold on and let himself sink with him and it’s the worse feeling in the world, to watch the person you love drown in your own misery.

 He looks at the maroon walls of his hotel bedroom and wonders how he can let Harry follow him into the deep, without allowing the boy to drown. He lets his eyes close and wonders what it would be like, to have a clean sheet, to have the chance to love Harry properly, no demons clawing at his back, no bloody past, no ghosts, no guilt. Instead he sees a boy that could have been happy if only he were dealt a different set of cards, he sees things he thought he’d forgotten about and it’s utterly soul-destroying and heart breaking that it leaves a sour taste on his tongue.

 

Later that night, he finds himself waking up on the floor beside the bed, his phone buzzing consistently in his pocket. He takes it out and without bothering to check the caller, he pulls out the battery and leaves them all under the bed. He sits back, head thudding on the mattress and takes a moment to breathe. He feels bone-weary and tired and before the quiet could drown him again, he decides to get up and order some room service.

When the food arrives, he sits on the table and stares at the dishes in front of him. It looks lovely and he really is trying to fix himself by getting himself to eat because it’s the reason why he’d left right? So he can fix himself and go back to Harry all proper and ready.

He heaves a deep breath and starts to eat, hoping that the sounds of his chewing and cutting food with his knife will drown the incoming noises in his head. With every bite, he finds himself thinking of Harry, of the radiant smile he got when he’d agreed to share a place together, of evenings playing scrabble, of times doing laundry and being properly domesticated.

He gets more specific as he sips some wine; thinking back to the first time Harry told him he loved him, when they sat on the balcony floor and Harry just poured his soul out to him, unable to contain himself, heart always beating out of his chest, almost like he’s asking Louis to just shoot him with arrows short-range and how he’s utterly ready to bleed in the palm of Louis’ hand.

He thinks of the very first time Harry kissed him, warm and sweet on his lips and words uncensored, thoughts unsheathed. He remembers the feeling of falling down a building, only feeling properly safe because someone was holding him while he fell and that same person made sure he didn’t hit the ground at all.

He thinks about what he never allowed himself to think of at the time, only properly thinking of it in now; how Harry’s lips were so soft on his, so comforting, with a whole lot of longing in them, even though he had already attained his prize.

But that all dims when he thinks about the fact that he never said the words back, how he just couldn’t and without meaning to, felt like he’d been dismissing Harry’s feelings from the start by never saying them back even once and the one time he did, Harry was too sick to say them back even if he had heard them. It’s a different kind of hurt this memory, reflecting how much he misses Harry’s kisses and when he thinks about how long it’s been since he’d had that comfort, about the fact that he’d run away from it, he feels horrified and his heart thumps loudly in his chest as he tries to swallow his food and at the same time scrambles to remember the details. It’s almost shocking to realize he has memories other than his past, memories that involved pubs and clubs and arenas and fans, memories that involved four boys and a dream, memories that involved the shade of green of Harry’s eyes that night he leaned in to kiss him, the way his cheeks were rose when he leaned for another one, the fact that it was the first kiss he’d had in such a long, long time that was loving and not out of pity or sympathy or sadness.

And he remembers that the last time he got a comforting kiss, a proper one, was from a woman he considered a stranger while he lay in a hospital bed, wondering why he wasn’t dead yet long after his dad hurt him.

 

The room around him spins at the abruptness of his thoughts and it makes his stomach lurch. He tries to calm down but when he puts his fork down and looks at his half empty plate, he feels so utterly disgusted and too full. He doesn’t know what’s happening but he heaves a bloodcurdling sigh and the next thing he knows, he’s getting up and running to the bathroom. He meets his dinner coming out of his mouth and he clings to the toilet so fucking hard, his knuckles turn white. He can feel the veins on his neck expanding with pressure and his knees throbbing from how hard he fell on the tiles, can feel his eyes trickling with tears and his forehead gathering sweat as soon as he’s done with vomiting.

He feels out of control, like his limbs don’t belong to him, like his mind is being manipulated by someone else. He feels like he’s being man handled by his own body, and he’s not sure how he can set himself free. He cannot go back to Harry like this, cannot fucking leave if he cannot even sit through one meal without the ability to pull himself together long enough to finish it.

Right now though, he can’t find the reason as to why he should, so he gives up.

Utterly exhausted, he gets up, rinses his mouth with tap water, pops two pills and collapses on the still-made bed, letting the tears stream down his face in a never-ending flow, just like his memories.

 

He wakes up the next morning to a golden sun in the sky and the first thought in his head as he stares at the window, is how radiant Harry would look if he were standing by the window right at that moment, just like all those few, sunny mornings they had in their kitchen where Harry would be stood by the stove, waiting for the kettle to boil and then he’d look at him when he’d walk in and he’d smile a soft one, dimple barely popping  through but there, still too sleepy to jump out of the crease of his cheek to fully bloom and dent into a real one.

Louis sees it so vividly and yet it feels just as clear as his memories and he wonders when did the two align so much, when did his memories become so vivid that he was comparing his reality to it instead of the opposite way around?

He looks away from the sunrise and follows his stream of thought, wondering where it would lead him.

He stares at the ceiling, opaque white unlike the dark, shade of red his walls are painted in, hoping it will lead to a happy morning.

He sees Harry looking up at him sleepily from where he demanded to use Louis’ bony shoulder.

He sees Harry looking down on him lovingly from where he’d decided to take a nap backstage.

He sees Harry looking properly devastated when he decided to break up with him.

He sees Harry looking at him with utter gratitude when he decided to take him back as a friend.

He sees Harry’s arms wrapped around his middle in the car, on their way home, asking if he is allowed home.

He sees how worried Harry would be about him, the look in his eyes whenever he’d wake up from a fitful dream and he realizes, ‘’I caused that, I made him unhappy.’’

He sees Harry not caring about that, about Louis making him concerned and worrisome. No he sees Harry standing ground, a solid presence as he picks him up from the bathroom floor and carries him to his bunk bed, never leaving his side, never out of reach should he cry for help, ready with gentle words and loving touches, waiting, always waiting on Louis to breathe first before he closes his eyes then falls back asleep in a bed of warmth, like lying down in a field of blossoms, calming down the need of his finger nails to cut his skin, soothing his throbbing blood from keeling over with panic and diminishing the darkness behind questions that can no longer be answered.

 Louis doesn’t sleep much that night, or the night after. He spends his time trying to pick up his broken pieces so that he can go back to Harry fully-mended, thinking of memories that start so good only to end so devastatingly bad, that he feels helplessly broken and in desperate need for a pill.

 He doesn’t know how he thought this was a good idea, letting himself drown and drown and drown, letting memories and ghosts eat him alive and he knocks back pill after pill simply to get the flow of them to stop. But it’s temporary; the rain in his head stops pouring just for a little while before he’s screaming his head off so loudly that night, the reception downstairs has to call his hotel room up and ask him to tone the volume of the telly down because the other guests are complaining from the disturbance.

He decides this is useless, whatever this attempt was. He realizes it doesn’t do much thinking of the warmth of a solid person when he can just enter his own home and find one there for real. He needs something permanent; perhaps a loving voice, a set of loving arms but he doesn’t know how to get that without feeling obliged to give back something in return, to spill his guts out.

Nonetheless, he’s out of options. He’d run away from Harry once and he really should try and stop doing that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont know if i've said this before but do read ''in vogue'' its such a lovely fic and some bits in this chapter was inspired by it. anyways, have a good day xoxo


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is a bit intense. 
> 
> warning: explicit language and mentions of over-used medication

_“It comes so soon, the moment when there is nothing left to wait for.”_

_Marcel Proust_

 

 

It’s a few hours later, after another failed attempt at sleeping for more than three hours, that he gets out of the cab he’d asked the hotel to call for him and he just stands there the next morning, staring at his house. His and Harry’s house. He’s not heavily medicated or too high, but somewhere in between. Just numb enough and ready for this show down. Yeah, bring it on.

He doesn’t move but he is about to, when the front door opens and a distraught-looking Harry takes all but a second to take one relieved look at him before he almost leaps with giant steps in his rush. Louis blinks and Harry is there already, wrapping his small frame in his arms.

‘’Fuck, Lou. Fuck, where the hell have you been? Jesus Christ.’’ Harry hugs him so tight; he honestly thinks he’s going to be swallowed whole and well, that feels nice. For someone not supposed to be able to feel much of anything, he likes this already; the warm presence and the feeling of being swallowed by the sun.

Harry takes two deep breaths from where his face is buried in Louis’ neck then tilts his head to be at Louis’ eye level, big hands framing his face.

‘’God, have you eaten anything? You’re shivering, Lou. Are you hungry? Have y…’’ Harry cuts himself off when Louis finally lifts his eyes from where they were staring blankly at Harry’s chest to meet Harry’s green ones. Harry takes one hard look at him and he just knows.

‘’How many did you take?’’ Harry asks with dread. ‘’Lou, how many did you take?’’ he enunciates his tone like it will make all the difference in the world. Still, Louis decides to take him out of his misery.

‘’I didn’t overdose, I promise. I just need to talk to you.’’ Louis assures him.

Harry nods after a tense moment, unease in his eyes because he knows Louis is high. Louis feels floaty but he sure feels a tug at his heartstrings at the raw hurt he sees in Harry’s face and wonders if it is too late to come back to earth.

“You look so different, pale.” Harry says it like he wants to cry.

‘’It bloats me a bit too, doesn’t it?” Louis tries to joke, as if the fact he’d eaten anti-anxiety pills like m&m’s the past three days and not enough food is funny.

‘’You know I don’t care about that.’’ The tears spill. ‘’ You still look great, I promise. But your eyes are spacey, Lou. You’re not here with me,” Haz says with the saddest voice he’s ever heard before he brings Louis to his chest again and Louis feels tears drip unto the crown of his head. ‘’How could you do this to yourself?’’

Louis doesn’t want to feel; he’s been feeling too much these past three days and it hasn’t done him any good. He also knows that he won’t be able to talk if emotions start bubbling up but that’s the thing with Harry; the lad always makes him want to wear his heart on his sleeves, wants to see it beating in front of him. Louis cannot help but feel a little.

‘’It’s been killing me, Haz. It’s been killing me.’’ He doesn’t know how else to say it but he hopes Harry gets it.

‘’I know.’’ Harry cries quietly. ‘’I know.’’

They keep standing there until someone clears his throat and when Louis peeks over Harry’s shoulder, he sees the boys standing at the front step.

‘’Do you need us to stay?’’ Liam asks. All their eyes are careful, watchful, like if they move wrong, they’ll step on a grenade and obliterate. Louis thinks he’s glad he’s not panicking at the sight of them, feelings numb and emotions bottled up. He only wishes Harry could appreciate that too.

‘’No,’’ Harry sniffles and turns his head without letting go of Louis. ‘’You can go now. Thank you.’’

Liam nods and reluctantly, he edges Niall and Zayn to move. Zayn looks downright furious and Niall looks confused and Liam, well, he looks like he doesn’t want to leave but he does it anyways.

Eventually, Harry escorts Louis back to the house with a hand on the small of his back. He sits Louis at the kitchen table and starts to make tea.

There are unwashed utensils, cups and plates in the sink. _So the boys had been staying over,_ Louis thinks numbly and Harry must have been in a proper state to leave the sink pile up like that. Louis wishes he could feel guilty but he can’t.

Louis is in such a haze that he vaguely hears Harry place two cups on the table before he takes out his phone and orders take-away for lunch. Louis recalls Harry asking if he were hungry and well, he probably looks it so he sighs and doesn’t interrupt Harry; places his elbows on the wooden table and folds his arms and ignores the fact that Harry’s eyes followed his every move all the way from where’s he’s standing by the fridge, phone clutched in his hand and eyes darting between the take-out menu, stuck on the fridge by a magnet they bought when they first went to Sweden, to Louis, before his eyes actually remain there, on him. When he’s done confirming their order, Louis talks.

‘’He was only ever drunk when he touched me, at first that is.” Louis’ eyes are unable to meet Harry’s. He rather finds comfort on the table instead. “I think he thought that by being drunk, he can keep himself out of the blame for his actions, use it as an excuse or something. But a person is usually sober before he decides to drink, right? Like, buying liquor instead of groceries, drinking a bottle of vodka, it surely must’ve had as much sober, decision input in it as deciding to be drunk enough to rape your own son,’’ he hears Harry’s breathe hitch and honestly, it would usually take all his inhibitions to surrender and on a bad day, take him tooth and nail to be able to get the ‘r’ word out of his own mouth but he’s numb enough now to say it so he continues. ‘’Which means, there was something else playing there, aside from wanting to be free of blame for what he was doing to me. And I don’t know why it took me so long to figure that part out, especially when it was there all along, right in front of me.’’

He hears footsteps then a chair being drawn across from him, the same chair that he had knocked over three days ago. Wow, it’s weird what a person can remember.

‘’And what did you figure out? Eventually?’’ Harry asks cautiously, like the table and the steaming mugs separating them is not enough of a protective barrier between them.

‘’That he was simply a monster.’’ Louis shrugs as he looks up at Harry with a sad smile and empty eyes. ‘’And I was just unfortunate enough to be his son.’’

Harry’s jaws tighten and he breathes in through his nose and breathes out so harshly that his nostrils flare. He looks angry and at the same time, anguished on Louis’ behalf.

‘’I wish I could kill him for you.’’ Harry admits. ‘’I’d put a gun to his head and pull the trigger and not feel an ounce of regret about it.’’

“You’d need a license for that, love.” Louis says but the joke falls flat. Harry looks away, like he’s trying to contain his feelings the way that Louis’ obviously are.

‘’You’re not being very truthful, Lou.’’ Harry points out when he looks back at Louis hesitantly, not able to meet his eyes completely and well, that’s a bit rude. See, Louis didn’t want to hold back anymore and he doesn’t know why Harry thinks he is allowed to pick on what Louis says, judge what is true and what is not. But no matter, he’s on a timer and he should take advantage of that, take advantage of the fact that everything feels slowed down, less, everything. So he doesn’t really feel sad or upset when he starts speaking bluntly since he knows he won’t be able to do that when the effect wears off.

“Well, I also wondered at the time, before I reached my final conclusion, if maybe he just missed fucking mummy so much,’’ Harry’s eyes whip back at him. ‘’Or maybe he just missed fucking in general.’’

‘’Louis, stop it.’’ Harry says sternly.

‘’See, my father was never really cruel before,’’ Louis points out, undeterred, like he’s in a class teaching geography to elementary students. Or maybe he really is as high as a kite. ‘’When my mom was around, he never laid a hand on me. He wasn’t big on punishment until she left. No, it was like,’’ he turns contemplative, pursing his lips as he searched for the right words. ‘’He blamed me and Leo for her leaving but then, if he wanted to punish me, why fuck me?’’

‘’Stop it.’’ Harry’s tone turns angry but he sounds like he’s begging too.

‘’Why not just beat me up or throw me and Leo out of the house, you know? Get us out of his hair? It really made me wonder,’’ He looks up at Harry’s fuming, sad face. ‘’Do you think it was simply because I was a really good lay?’’

‘’Fucking stop it!’’ Harry explodes. The chair rattles as it falls when Harry stands up, big hands leaning on the table as he brings his face a mere inch from Louis’.

‘’If you think,’’ Harry’s tone is low, almost vicious if not for the words behind it, eyes not only intense in its closeness but intense in…Louis wants to say ‘love’ but he thinks he’ll vomit if he allows himself to think that way. ‘’You’re going to get me to hate you enough to punish you like your old man, then you don’t know me at all.’’

‘’Is that right?’’ Louis cannot help but ask, too numb to recoil from Harry’s fuming proximity.

‘’I know what you’re really thinking. You don’t think he was a monster or that he simply hated you, no, you actually think you deserved that hatred, so fucking much. You think you’re so damn worthless, that you deserved what he did, so badly, because his actions dictated it.  And I cannot disagree with you more.’’ Harry breathes out harshly, that Louis feels his breath hit him, but not as hard as his words and he cannot allow that.

‘’Why, because you love me?’’ Louis asks in a mock-tone.

‘’Because it is not true; no one deserves that kind of monstrosity, no one.’’ Harry insists; voice adamant, eyes steady and not flinching at all. Louis cannot take this.

‘’I cannot believe you’d delude yourself so much, all because you’re blinded by how much you oh so love me.’’ Louis snares, but he feels his front crumbling. He cannot believe he is using Harry’s own feelings and turning it against him. But honestly, he is so terrified of trusting Harry’s love; he almost wishes he didn’t want it. Too many people had hurt him, people he had trusted and he refuses to allow Harry to be one of them.

‘’Stop hurting yourself,’’ Harry begs as he stands straight, like he knows what’s coming, like a storm-warning. Too late.

‘’I cannot believe how pathetic you are.’’ Louis’ voice is relaxed, almost lazy as he sits back while he digs daggers into his own heart. ‘’You really think you get to throw orders at me? You think you’re better than all of us? Let me remind you that you’re the one settling for the slut with the damaged goods.’’

‘’Shut up.’’ Harry’s voice trembles but his fists are in a vice.

‘’You probably thought in your little fantasy, sunshine-blossoming world of puppies and roses that if you loved me, it would be enough for me to love myself, yeah?’’

That actually shut Harry up, his eyes turning hurt. Louis wants to stop because he can see what he’s doing but he doesn’t.

‘’But don’t you get it? I hate myself.’’ Louis laughs and it’s dry and empty. ‘’I don’t care if my dad made me hate myself, that’s just the way I am now. I’ve hated myself for six years’’ He announces with a bit of a dramatic flair. ‘’And do you know why, Harry? Do you know what it’s like…’’

‘’No…’’ a tear slips from Harry’s eyes and fuck, it will not stop him.

‘’To lose the one thing that made it all worth-while; the fucking and the raping and the beating and the name-calling and the shaming and staying silent through it all,’’ he’s crying too, voice trembling through gritted teeth and growing loud but he is unstoppable. ‘’It was all so goddamn worth it until they decided to take Leo from me,’’ he’s standing up now, marching towards Harry like he’s going to war until he’s right at his face. ‘’Like I didn’t suffer enough for him, like it meant nothing! As if I didn’t love my brother enough, like what I’d been through made me too fucking inadequate to take care of him, like I was less than nothing, just fucking unworthy for them to let me keep him after all.’’

‘’You were not inadequate or unworthy, Lou. They were wrong, whoever they are.’’ Harry’s voice is thick, his fists loosening up as he turns towards Louis too, so that the table is no longer between them. His shoulders sag, like the weight of Louis’ words is bearing down on him. Yeah well, it’s nothing compared to the six years of weight on his own shoulders, Louis thinks, so Harry can suck it.

‘’Shut up!’’ Louis shouts as he pushes at Harry’s chest, making the boy’s back hit the counter, making Harry flinch for the first time since he entered the house. ‘’What the fuck do you know? Don’t you get it yet? See, that’s not what they said. No, what they said was really something. ‘Oh, he got raped by his daddy,’’’ his voice turns mocking, sneering, his tears increasing. ‘’Oh dear, better send him to the loony bin, he’s a mental, walking plague now, daddy made him walk funny, daddy damaged him for good, took his fucking innocence away and turned him rotten, better take his baby brother away from him because he’s not a man anymore, yeah? Not man enough to take care of his brother? Precious Leo might get infected by his older brother’s fried-up sick brain, or worse, precious Leo might get raped by his older brother too. Oh dear, oh fucking dear!’’

‘’They’re wrong, they’re all wrong, damn them!’’ Harry shouts louder, voice painfully tearful. ‘’Louis, please,’’ Harry skids to his knees and buries his face in Louis’ thighs. ‘’I can’t believe that happened to you, but they’re wrong, please.’’

Louis is shocked back and his voice clogs, like he’d suddenly skidded to a halt. He lets Harry’s crying calm his raging thoughts down and it’s like white noise washing away the filth his mouth spilled out, like the sizzling sound of a frying pan put straight under a stream of tap water. He doesn’t know how long he remains there standing, frozen while the gears shift in his head. Harry’s muffled and teary voice starts to seep through his spinning mind, a reminder of what just happened.

‘’I’m so sorry that happened to you.’’ Harry cries. ‘’You didn’t deserve any of it. I promise.’’

Louis shakes his head, still feeling a bit out of control, spinning, spinning and spinning like a Ferris wheel. ‘’He hurt me and they sent him away for it but why did they punish me, Haz?’’ he asks, not looking at the boy on his knees for him because his eyes are too teary to see properly. ‘’Why did they take Leo? I didn’t mean for him to get hurt, I was just, I was trying. I’m sorry, I…’’

‘’Hey, hey,’’ Harry gets up, like he can sense Louis’ trembling and shit, that means the effect of the pills is wearing off. Harry frames his face and sniffles. His face is all botched up and Louis wants to reach out and clear his face, make it all better but he can’t. ‘’Don’t be sorry. You needed to let this out, in your own way. There’s nothing to be sorry for…’’

‘’No, I,’’ Louis stops him, shaking his head as more tears drip over Harry’s fingers. ‘’Don’t you see how I cannot stomach myself, Haz? I feel so sick sometimes because I have this life, this good life. I got a happy ending, like someone’s finally decided to show me some mercy but it’s not what I want. Back then, it wasn’t pointless, me getting hurt, it wasn’t worthless, Harry, until now. Until I’m signing a record deal and next thing you know, I’m in the biggest boy band there is and touring the world. And now, I have everything except for the one thing I want, the one thing that mattered so what’s the point? What’s the point of making music that I love and breaking records and buying houses and spending money on good food and proper health care and cars and whatever luxury I could think of, what’s the point when he’s not here with me? When I can’t share any of this with him? I let him be taken away. I didn’t protect Leo till the end, like I promised him over and over. Instead they took him from me in the hospital the night we left and I let it happen. I didn’t fight hard enough for him, no matter how many times I escaped from the orphanage; I couldn’t find him anymore so what’s the point of all this? Tell me, Haz.’’ he has more to say but his voice turns raspy and too thick to continue and it hurts and he feels so damn tired and he simply cannot stop Harry from bringing him to his chest and allowing himself to be held, to cry his heart out. ‘’What’s the point of living? I’m empty. I’m not happy. He’s not here. He’s not here, Haz so I’m not here and just…what’s the point? God, it hurts being happy without him. I can’t do it. I can’t give him anything. I’m too empty, I can’t.’’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say that i dont want this story of mine to be translated or copied or written anywhere else. There is one ao3 user already translating this to polish as far as i am concerned and i do not wish for anyone else to do any translation of my work. Thank u.


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a huge, enormous gigantic apology for the late update. my mom came back last friday from abroad -she traveled to seek medical attention- and i havent seen her in a month and a half so i spent the whole last weekend with her then work was a mess and so finally come the weekend after, and voila here's an update.
> 
> now, on to an important matter; I DO NOT WANT MY STORY COPIED, TRANSLATED OR PUBLISHED AT ANOTHER SITE UNDER ANOTHER PERSON'S USER NAME WITHOUT MY EXPRESSED PERMISSION, I FORBID IT AND ITS MY RIGHT TO DEMAND THAT!!!
> 
> FINALLY, proceed with caution with this chapter, heed the tags. A bit of a big revelation coming ur way so there's that. It took a lot from me writing this chapter in particular and a lot of inspiring reads helped me along the way including ;  
> ''Birds in gilded cages'' by graveyardwitch, ''Finding Heaven When You're Stuck in Hell'' by  
> smuttythings, ''look after you'' by theonewiththelarrystories and ''kiss me'' by anomalation.
> 
> and that's a wrap. until next time.

_''Hello darkness, my old friend,_  
_I've come to talk with you again,_  
_Because a vision softly creeping,_  
_Left its seeds while I was sleeping,_  
_And the vision that was planted in my brain_  
_Still remains_  
_Within the sound of silence.''_

_-Simon and Garfunkel, sound of silence_

 

 

 

The house is silent, save for Louis’ sniffling. He couldn’t stop crying for a long time and by the time he did, he was so tired. Harry carried him to the couch and let him sit there, afraid of letting him go. He watches as Louis curls up near the armrest, arms folded tightly across his stomach, knees up to his chest, fingers trembling where they squeeze his biceps. He looks zoned out, wrought like a squeezed towel, with no power left in him. His eyes are heavily red-rimmed from lack of sleep and still tearing up, so Harry picks the box of tissues from the coffee table and puts it next to him before he decides to get up and make them a cup of tea.

Honestly, he just needs an escape to the kitchen and take everything that has happened in, mind whirring with thoughts. He rinses away the mugs he had placed on the kitchen table, cold tea spilling down the drain before fixing the kettle. He then stands by the sink and heaves a heavy sigh.

He’s afraid the cogs in his brain are about to rust from how much they're turning, afraid the screws are going to clank and clank until his brain explodes all over the kitchen’s counter. When he’d moved to the sink, it was because he merely wanted to splash some water on his face, man up, forget about the bloody tea and go back to Louis, but as soon as he cups some water into his palm and brings it up to his face, the cool water feels so good permeating his pores that he never wants to open his eyes and face the world again. He splashes some more water then he just goes all out and ducks his head under the faucet, loosening his curls until they’re just dripping strands. _‘Like Tarzan,’_ Louis would say.

 “Fuck,” he mutters into the skin of his palm. He feels like shit and whatever mirage the cool tap water had created easily evaporates into thin air the moment his thoughts of Louis resurface.

He cannot stomach it. He thought hearing it once would give him enough stamina to hear it again, when Louis was ready to say it face to face. He thought he could treat Louis the same, which was what he’d been trying to do ever since that day after their reconciliation in his hotel room but he’d been dead wrong. Ignoring it doesn’t change that it had happened. Treating Louis the same doesn’t mean it hadn’t happened. Louis had been raped, several times, severely and brutally, by his father no less and the world will never be the same again.

Every instinct in Harry is screaming at him to go out there already, to ‘mother’, to fuss, to protect but Louis can’t see him sad, can’t see him falling apart like he did back in Liam’s place. Because Louis is more important than Harry right now and Louis needs someone strong.

 He nods to himself, hoping he’s convinced himself enough that he could be whatever it is that Louis needs and more before he goes about making tea for one.

 When he’s done, he goes to the living room and sets the steaming mug on the table nearest Louis before sitting down next to him, leaving three inches of space.

 Louis is not as hunched as he was before Harry left him but he’s still closed in on himself, still shaky, face still blotched. The tissue box looks untouched and Harry takes note of Louis’ fingernails digging into the meat of his biceps, takes note of his swimming eyes, dazed in space. He wants to take his hands and hold them, rub them until they stop trembling but no matter how hard it is to sit and do nothing, he does exactly that, remains seated and still, because if what Louis said is true –and he believes him, there’s no doubt about that, no matter how horrifying- there have been too many people putting their grubby hands on Louis, stepping on his freedom instead of giving it to him, poking and prodding instead of healing, hurting instead of helping, and Harry won’t become one of the people who betrays Louis’ trust. The first step in gaining access to Louis is being there for him, even if that entails merely being a silent constant, but an assuring constant nonetheless, a solid presence. Forcing human contact on him when he clearly isn’t ready to return it, let alone take it, is not the right way to go.

 He looks at Louis’ eyes again and sees dull blue. Louis looks confused and lost in thought, like whatever he’s thinking is causing him actual, physical pain and he has no idea why.

 Harry doesn’t understand how he can live in a world where Louis is hurting and beneath the minute strength he’d managed to build, he’s beginning to feel unabashed hatred towards anyone who’s ever laid an ill-finger on Louis, towards anyone who’s so much as touched him, even if that includes him. Especially if it includes him.

‘’Lou,’’ he cannot help but say and he feels helpless when Louis’ breathe catches that he has to close his eyes. ‘’Have some tea, yeah? You haven't eaten all day.’’

He doesn’t expect Louis to move but he is startled out of his simmering, raging thoughts and helplessness when he opens his eyes and spots movement. He looks up to see Louis picking up his mug, tucks it between his folded up legs and chest, like he’s trying to savor the warmth before he takes a little sip, sniffling after.

‘’I’m sorry,’’ Louis says, voice hitching.

“Louis,” Harry pleads, “It’s fine, or I mean, it’s not fine but…you don’t have to apologize to me, remember?’’

Harry doesn’t know if he should say more because Louis looks so stricken and Harry just wants him to know that it’s okay, that he holds no grudges for anything that Louis said that had hurt him. Louis seems terrified of himself, looks like he’s about to cry again too, like what he did was so awful compared to what had been done to him and Harry cannot take it, cannot bear how Louis looks like he slowly wants to shrink away from Harry, like he’ll plague him or something.

He then remembers what Louis had said and his stomach lurches, bile climbing up his throat.

‘’And you’re not going to hurt me,’’ Harry says immediately. He feels his tear ducks about to give way like a fucking dam but he holds it back, no matter how unbearable it is to stop himself from holding Louis and assuring him that he is not the monster people in his past claimed he is. ‘’You’re not going to project what your dad did to you on me, okay? And for them to assume that,'' he breathes in, finds the mere thought intolerable. ''Louis, whoever they are, they are dead wrong.'' He ends firmly before he starts all over. ''For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve always been kind and modest and your hugs have always made me feel safe and loved and not once have your touches ever made me crave them less.’’ Harry pauses because he shouldn’t cross that territory, shouldn’t bring his feelings into this. ‘’Lou, you have never done anything even remotely close to what that monster did and you are absolutely nothing like that.’’

‘’I…I don’t understand; how can you stand yourself, sitting next to me?’’ Louis rasps; hand reaching up to wipe the tear that slips. All this time, not once did he look at Harry; eyes remaining somewhere near the front door, like he wants to escape. ‘’I’m scarred and used, I’ve got fucking cigarette burns up and down my back and my father r…he did stuff to me, stuff that I could have prevented if I wasn’t such a coward or if I was just smart enough to know better.’’ Louis pauses. ‘’He used to tell me, while he was doing it, especially when I got loud, that if the neighbors hear about what was going on or find out, they’ll split me and Leo up and put Leo in a home where more people would hurt him and just, I had to stay quiet and….’’

‘’It was not your fault that you believed him, Lou.’’ Harry interrupts gently. Harry had been suspecting this for a long time, especially during all those nights when Louis kept demanding himself to be silent, to be quiet. He realizes now the extent of it, how harrowing it was for Louis to suffer so that people don’t split him and Leo apart and yet.

And yet, that is exactly what happened anyways.

‘’I did though and he was right.’’ Louis says as if he’d read it straight out of Harry’s mind. ‘’I let him do stuff to me, far more times than I can remember and you think hugging me or kissing me is the best thing in the world? How can you fucking stand it?’’

‘’First of all, you didn’t _let_ him do anything, okay? Nothing about what happened to you was consensual, Louis.’’ Harry says fiercely. ‘’And second of all, you didn’t hurt anybody; it’s you who got hurt.’’ Harry’s voice thickens so he swallows the lump in his throat and soldiers on. ‘’He did all that to you, but you’re still you, okay? You’re still Louis and not once throughout the entire time that I’ve known you, did you ever hurt me the way he did.’’ Harry pauses, watches Louis take it in. ‘’You’re my best friend, Lou. You became my best friend for a reason and you know me, you know I’d never settle for someone loathsome and you’re far from that. You’re the gentlest person I know, and you’re nothing like your father, okay? He is horrible but you are not.’’

 Harry breathes out harshly, hoping he’d been able to get the message across. Louis sniffs and breathes out, takes another sip. They sit in silence for a bit before Louis talks.

 ‘’Sometimes I can’t help but wonder,’’ he starts. ‘’Did he just want to fill a void? Was I a convenience? Did he want to punish me? Did he simply want me? I sometimes stay up at night until the sun comes up trying to find a reason, anything because I don’t understand how people can get married and have children and then do stuff like that, I don’t…’’ another tear slips. ‘’I can never really figure it out.” Louis sighs, taking another sip as he lets the tears flow, like they’re a part of him. Harry has never seen something look so raw and he wants to shelter Louis, protect him before he gets downtrodden even more.

“I…I don’t really know, Lou. I mean, I wish I knew what sociopaths think but that would be a creepy thing to be curious about, not a good past-time either.’’ Harry frowns but when he looks up, he sees Louis’ mouth twitch. He hopes he’s doing okay so he keeps talking. ‘’So try not to dwell on it, yeah? He can’t hurt you anymore.” Harry says soothingly. ‘’And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry that he ever did, you really didn’t deserve that.’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Louis says inscrutably before he finishes his tea in a gulp. He sets the mug aside and crosses his arms across his torso. His fingers are trembling again, like holding the mug had tethered him and now he’s lost again, swaying against the wind. ‘’It’s alright though or I mean, it’s not,’’ he chuckles wetly, sadly before he turns serious. ‘’I mean, there are some days I can manage to accept that that happened to me, can find it bearable that it is a part of me,’’ Louis swallows, eyes swimming in pain. At this point, Harry notices how his laugh lines are all gone and the edges of his mouth are titled down so sadly, Harry thinks he won’t ever be able to smile again.

‘’But I don’t think I can ever accept how he’d hurt Leo the same way too. It’s…that’s most unbearable.’’

Harry doesn’t want to believe he understands what that means. ‘’I’m sorry, what…you’re not telling me that he…’’

‘’He did,’’ Louis says quietly, teary eyes flashing with visceral pain it’s almost hard to look at, before he adds, ‘’the night we left.’’

Harry remembers what Louis said a long time ago, in a car, after Paul fetched Louis from the hospital, about Leo getting hurt as much as Louis and…shit, shit, shit.

‘’Oh my God,’’ Harry mutters, aghast. He cannot honestly believe it. He does the math quickly in his head and as soon as it bursts in his mind that Leo was barely ten years old when his father forced himself on him too, Harry feels that bile double in his throat.

“Lou,” Harry manages to croak out and just like that, whatever strength he’d managed to gather at the pit of his stomach snuffs out. He can’t breathe, he can’t – he can’t do this, he can’t bear this and…he realizes that if he cannot stomach it, then he can only imagine how Louis must have felt back then, how he feels even now, with the weight of that undeniable past sitting on his shoulders.

He looks at Louis now and sees his eyes glazing over, sees his delicate features crumble, like he’s about to throw up. He also starts rocking back and forth ever so slightly and Harry wants to stop him, wants to end the conversation right there. His arms are so tightly wrapped around his torso and Harry is afraid his shirt might already be stained red where his fingers are digging into the meat of his upper arms. He watches as Louis talks through his apparent nausea and fears the dizziness he’ll get from his gentle swaying might make him pass out. Harry tries to stifle the ever-growing anger coiling in his gut at seeing Louis being reduced to this by people who ought to have taken care of him, people who ought to have loved him and tries desperately to clear his mind and hear Louis out. It’s the least he could do, even though he knows he won’t like what he hears or worse, what it could possibly do to Louis at this point.

‘’He’d started that night fucking me first,’’ Louis says, voice almost unrecognizable, like he’s in a stupor and his voice is coming out of a dream. ‘’I’d lost count of how many times it’s been and I was so, so tired of trying to remember, although, well, it was the night of my fifteenth birthday so it must have been months since he’d started.’’ Harry hears that and feels like Louis is dropping bombs on him. ‘’It was also quite early, not past midnight like I’d been used to but maybe an hour or so before so I was a little surprised and he took advantage of that, I think. I’d been extra tired that day because it was Christmas Eve and I took Leo out to the park and we spent the whole day making snow angels and playing footie or simply just walking around.'' Louis' small smile that had appeared briefly at the pleasant memory turns dim. ''I guess because I was tired, I couldn’t help but be a bit loud and because it was Christmas, I shouldn’t have been surprised that my father was more drunk than usual. I remember being on the cusp of sleep when I felt something cold,’’ Louis shivers and even though he was not touching him, Harry can feel it, feel it radiate off of him and he wants to cloak him in warmth, wants to stop this. ‘’I recognized the smell and realized he was pouring beer all over my back and my legs and my bum, like he thought it would help, like it would make what he was about to do less painful.’’ Louis’ voice turns incredulous and he looks in shock, pale and shaking. ‘’I must have been so tired because I remember going to bed in my clothes, I always go to bed in my clothes because I never wanted to make it easy for him, no matter how many times he’d done it but the beer on my skin made me realize he’d already undressed me and I had hardly noticed until I felt my skin get wet and by the time I could talk, he was _shoving_ into me and he just, he split me right then and there,’’ a tear slips. ‘’He just, I wasn’t ready so I screamed and he just went for it, hard and fast and…’’ Louis keels over and makes a nauseous sound, throat gagging like his memories were sickening him, frightening him.

‘’Lou!’’ Harry’s hands reach out like he wants to steady him, wants to cradle him but Louis shrinks in on himself.

‘’Leo heard and h-he c-came into my…my room,’’ Louis starts to hyperventilate, head on his knees, fingers pressing deeper and deeper and Harry realizes that Louis’ shirtsleeves covering his forearms are drenched in red. ‘’He tried to stop dad, he tried so hard, slapping at his arms holding my legs apart but dad back-handed him.’’ Louis is rocking so fast now and Harry cannot hold back anymore.

“Louis, stop. Look at me, please, I’m losing you. Look at me.”

Louis doesn’t. His eyes remain unfocused and his hands remain firmly closed around his biceps, drawing blood. Louis talks over Harry's coaxes, almost a gargle from how hard he’s breathing.

‘’And Leo just got back up, tried to stop him again and this time, dad picked him up like he weighed nothing and threw him across the floor. It wasn't the first time he did it, throw Leo like that, but it still hurts hearing the sound of it, his little body colliding with hard wood and I just, I felt like I was in hell, even when the bed stopped moving and my head stopped banging against the wall above my bed from every thrust and it's because, I couldn't believe it but I realized it’s because my dad had moved away and by the time I could think or process anything, he was pinning Leo down on my bedroom floor and tearing at his bottoms and I heard Leo scream and dad didn’t even think, he didn't even try, he just went for it like he couldn't stop, even when I called out to him he didn’t stop and Leo was screaming and screaming and calling for me, he was calling for me…Leo…’’

‘’Louis, stop,’’ Harry touches between his shoulder blades, hopes the touch will draw him back to the present.

It’s a huge mistake.

The decibel at which Louis screamed made Harry flinch so hard, he literally slipped off the couch. Louis keeps screaming, eyes-widening so horrifyingly, the blue almost disappears and it’s harrowing when Louis let’s go of his biceps and Harry hears wet cloth rip and Louis starts scratching himself everywhere; his thighs, his cheeks, his temples, his scalp. He even scratches his eyes and Harry fears his nails might poke a vessel and he wouldn’t be able to stand it, he wouldn’t if Louis starts crying blood.

‘’No, it hurts, don’t touch, don’t.’’ Louis croaks and Harry feels sick.

“Stop, Louis. God. Please stop,” Harry gets on his knees in front of Louis and starts begging in earnest and he doesn’t care, doesn’t care if Louis screams at him as long as he stops clawing at his own skin and drawing blood from his face. He gets back on the couch and pulls Louis towards him, almost on his lap and pulls and pushes, almost fighting with Louis as he tries to grip his wrists, tries to stop him from thrashing about.

‘’Lou, please. Lou,” he pleads as he tugs at Louis while the latter keeps thrashing and freeing himself and running blunt nails against his already bruised body. Harry doesn’t stop even when his eyelashes start to clump because he doesn’t want his tears to fall, doesn’t want to cry and lose his focus on Louis when he’s this out of control. 

Louis fights him and wails, scraping his hands over his scratched cheeks, pulling at his hair, shaking so violently Harry can feel his bones click together. “No!” he shrieks, fisting his hands and clubbing his forehead with them, “No, don’t hurt him. Hurt me. Dad, please, hurt me. Leave him alone. I’m the bad one, I’m the bad one. Make me sorry. Daddy, please; make me sorry, I’ll take it. I’ll take it. No, no, not Leo, I, I’m not—I’m not good, I’m not, I’m bad, I’m so bad, I made mommy go away, it’s all my fault, please. Daddy, please hurt me, hurt me. I’ll take it, punish me, I’ll take it,” he chants it over and over like a plea for mercy, almost as if he’s willing himself to accept that this was right even then, that this was how it’s supposed to be and Harry is speechless and shocked, and he can’t breathe; the weight of Louis’ words sits heavily on his chest and he can barely hold Louis now, barely hold him in when it’s apparent that he is trapped in his own mind, reliving an unbearable memory and saying things he used to be forced to say, the words no longer buried deep inside. No, they're tumbling out of his mouth like vomit and making tears prick at the corner of Harry’s eyes. 

“No, love, no,’’ he rasps, hands weak as they tug at Louis’ wrists , trying to collect them in his grip and stop them from slicing his fingernails across the expanse of his thighs. ‘’You’re not bad. Get out of there and you’ll be okay. You’ll be with me, please,” Harry tries to soothe, but his voice is croaky, breaking like his heart. 

“Hurt me, daddy.” Louis demands weakly, eyes glassy and still not looking at him, mind far, far away. His body is pulsating under Harry’s grip, hot and shaky and sweaty, just exploding all over the place. “Leave Leo alone…”

 “Lou, please, I’m here,” Harry tells him, chest clenching so painfully it’s hard to inhale but he keeps Louis’ hands from wandering, catches his wrists when he moves them to do harm. ‘’Come back to me, and you’ll find me, I’m right here, love. I’m never letting you go,” as a last resort, he circles Louis’ left wrist and pulls at his arm so that it wraps around his own neck then grips Louis’ right wrist so that his bloody hands latch onto the meat of his left bicep, making it seem like Louis was wrapping his arms around Harry’s shoulders. Harry then fists the back of Louis’ head and draws him closer, buries Louis’ blotchy face into the span of his neck and immediately, Louis’ tears slide down his skin, his toes digging into the flesh of Harry’s thighs, forehead pressing into the veins on his neck and arms tightening involuntarily around him but Harry doesn’t care; he’d rather Louis choke him, hurt him than watch Louis hurt himself.

He curls his arms around Louis’ still shaking form, the crook of his elbow digging into his sweaty back and hand landing on his calf whereas his other arm encircles Louis’ folded up legs and latches onto the back of his shoulder, keeping him in a vice.

He feels Louis’ muttering simmer until it’s just garble, lips moving frantically across his neck, shivering like he’s in the eye of a blizzard. Harry hears awful, disgusting words and he tries to override it by cooing and shushing and being the gentlest he’s ever been.

But Louis is not with him, doesn’t even react to his voice. He seems far away, gone to a horrific place where Harry can’t follow, can’t even reach him and despite physically holding onto him, Louis has slipped entirely from Harry’s grasp. He’s so far from the present, hands clamping on Harry and the words he says get filthier and filthier.

‘’Yes, daddy, I love getting fucked. Love- love your cock, love it so much, I can take it. I’ll take it. I want you to come in me, I'll take it.’’

‘’God, Lou,’’ Harry sobs, hand leaving his shoulder and burying his fingers in Louis’ hair, like he’s trying to shove Louis’ lips against his neck, trying to mute him. The words make him feel nauseated and useless…

The doorbell rings and shit; only then Harry remembers ordering food for lunch. He decides to ignore it; he can’t leave Louis in his state but the man keeps ringing and Louis has suddenly clammed up, gone silent in a flash and Harry fears for him more if the delivery man doesn’t leave.

‘’I’ll be right back, my love. I promise.’’ He smears a kiss across Louis’ blotched cheek, hopes it’s a comforting one and leaves Louis on the couch. He wipes his face with his sleeve, shakes his head at the man apologizing for being late and literally shoves too much money in his hands and almost slams the door to his face before dumping the food bag next to the key bowl and almost leaps in his haste back to Louis.

He gets him back on his lap, arms wrapped around him in a vice. He was gone merely seconds, a minute at most and hopes he hasn’t caused too much damage. He even puts a hand at Louis’ neck, checking his pulse from how unfathomably worried he is.

An icy shiver radiates from Louis’ body at the feel of Harry’s hand sliding to the side of his neck so Harry loosens up and goes back to just cradling him, waiting for Louis’ hallucination to pass. Louis’ muttering has stopped though, no longer a string of letters but more like whimpering, muffled, short, high-pitched yelps, like that of a cornered, frightened animal and Harry worries when he feels Louis’ erratic pulse beneath his palm so he looks down at Louis’ face.

Harry feels it when he slips into silent horror at the sight. Louis’ eyes are deadly blank, unseeing and shining with tears, his lower lip is clamped so tightly between his teeth that a trickle of blood drips down his chin. His face is white and pasty, shining with cold sweat and his entire body is trembling so violently that he looks on the brink of a seizure. He keeps making ‘’mm, mm’’ sounds, muffled whimpers of terror, his hands balled into fists under his chin like a new-born and he looks so young all of a sudden, all pixie-faced and big wide eyes, like he isn’t twenty years old anymore but somehow fourteen again and Harry immediately remembers when Louis told him how he had to be quiet, had to be silent whenever he got too loud, because people might hear, people might ring on his doorstep asking questions and that’s probably what Louis thought Harry opening the front door was for, not even a mere minute ago and just.

‘’Oh God,’’ immediately he reaches out for Louis’ face and taps at his cheekbone gently. ‘’Lou honey, let go of your lip. You’re bleeding, love.’’ Louis doesn’t respond, balling his fists tighter to his chest like he's trying to force his lungs to fold. He looks like he’s not breathing altogether, clammed up so tightly and shaking his head at the front door like someone’s standing there grabbing his attention, so the latter cups his jaw and with his thumb, Harry prods at Louis’ lower lip gently, soothing words never ending.

‘’Umm, umm…’’

‘’Shh, shh, it’s okay, nobody’s come after you, nobody’s going to hurt you, love.’’ Finally, with Harry’s thumb working over his chin and lip, words on a constant, assuring loop, Louis gasps as he lets go of his lip, a trickle of blood spilling over Harry’s fingers. But he keeps shaking his head as he finally raises his head and looks at Harry, eyes like the dead blue sea, empty and still. Louis breathes harshly, his fingers loosening up to tug at Harry’s wrist, scratching at his milky skin there but Harry doesn’t care because Louis’ trying to get words out as he looks up at Harry with wide, unseeing eyes, leaking tears.

‘’No, daddy said I have to be quiet when he fucks me.’’ He whispers before he looks back at the front door, voice trembling and hushed like he’s hiding under a blanket, body rocking slightly again. ‘’Daddy said I have to be quiet. Daddy said I love it. I love his cock…''

''Lou, please…''

''Just don’t hurt me too much, okay? Please?'' Louis pleads when Harry tries to interrupt him. ''Leo will wake up, he’ll hear me, please; they’ll take him away like you said. Please, I have to be quiet. They can’t hear me, I have to be quiet, daddy. I have to be quiet. Just kill me and I’ll be quiet, I promise.’’

Harry hears this and the words knock the air right out of him and no matter what, it will always horrify him. Harry is not prepared with anything to say, words having run themselves dry but his actions are not delayed like before. He keeps his thumb pressed gently on Louis’ lower lip, trying to stifle the bleeding from where his teeth had cut at the flesh, trying not to cry –or worse, vomit- because if his tears spill, they’ll hurt where Louis’ skin is torn and where his flesh is open raw.

“Shhh, shhhh, I’m here, love.'' He says because he cannot bear to hear Louis begging to be killed over and over again. ''It’s gonna be alright, everything will be alright.”

He doesn't believe what he's saying, words blurring together like the tears at the rim of his eyelashes. They spill as he talks and he hates himself for not being able to hold it in, hates that he can feel that bile in his throat, hates that Louis' words disgust him because he had a good life, you know. He had a proper upbringing and therefore, he shouldn't be naïve about this, about other people's suffering

It’s a few more minutes of cooing and shushing when Louis’ eyes light up with recognition, fingers that were clamping on Harry’s wrist relax slightly. But the relief is unfelt when his blue irises blaze with horror and something akin to shame when he looks up at Harry. Harry is about to say something to soothe him but Louis keels over, vomits all over the carpet violently and soon after, passes out.


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this should have been posted yesterday (actually a week ago but pls ignore that) and once again, I'd like to point out the tags and for you guys to proceed with caution.  
> Inspirational reads behind this chapter goes to:  
> And down the long and silent street by whimsicule  
> Birds in Gilded Cage by graveyardwitch  
> Finding heaven when you're stuck in hell by smuttythings

_''There are moments when even to the sober eye of reason, the world of our sad humanity may assume the semblance of Hell. ”_

_Edgar Allan Poe_

 

 

-He’s…floating. Somewhere. And it feels quite nice…safe. It’s all white drapes of nothingness, shimmering clouds that seem endless and he feels like he’s gliding through empty space, a million of light years away from anywhere. He feels protected, untouchable, like he is when he’s singing on stage. There is no fear, no pain. There is no horror, no past, no present, just an all-encompassing numbness and it is quite silent, peaceful.

Occasionally there would be prodding echoes, sounds ricocheting like blue Jays in a valley of green, chirping on the edge of his consciousness. The muffled voices are worried but far away, like white noise. He ignores them and clings to the soothing whiteness and eventually, the voices fade away.

Time passes and sometimes he finds himself thinking about the little things that make him happy… singing, the excitement before hitting the stage, the taste of Harry’s kiss, his kind green eyes, his dimples when he smiles at him, his all-encompassing embraces that always know how to warm him up...

And then there are times when even in his state of peace, he feels something dimly lurking in the dark corners of his mind; something akin to choking, a breath of pain. There are moments when it is easy to ignore them and then there are moments when even the peaceful atmosphere is not enough and he just wants all of it to completely disappear…

''How is he?''

''Well, the thin scratches all over his body are going to heal, but some were cut deeper than most so you should maintain extra care for those, change the bandages and apply the antiseptic for at least two days.''

''Do you think he has an eating disorder?’'

‘’That is not a fair question, Zayn.’’

‘’Shut it, Niall. I want answers. Doc?’’

''To be honest, no, I don’t think so. Some people when under great stress tend to just forget about meals or they just cannot stomach eating, let alone handle the intake of food from too much anxiety and duress. Examining his state and the fact that he has been prescribed anti-anxiety meds, I am not surprised that he is one of those people. You didn't even have to tell me he hasn't been eating to give me an idea; it was pretty obvious. The shaking and tremors, that's his body's way of asking for attention, of seeking some sort of respite. You told me he vomited?''

''Yes, badly and it smelt like chemicals mixed with stomach acid. It took us two bottles of detergents to clean it up and the stench is still there on the carpet.''

''Zayn…''

''What, Harry? You called us and you still refuse to be honest? Are you fucking kidding me?''

''Look, can we not stray off track? We're all here for Louis, not to bicker. Continue, doc.''

''Right, well, the odor of chemicals definitely has to do with the anti-anxiety medication he is on. Taking more than he should, or more than he was prescribed, on a nearly empty stomach no less, even if just for three days, is enough reason to cause this.''

''He didn't overdose though, right?’’

‘’No, he didn’t. It doesn’t make this alright, son.’’

‘’No, I know that. I know I’m not a doctor but I can assure you how much I am aware of his recklessness. I just want to point out that when he came back, he was only a little high but not like he turned into a drug addict.''

''Oh for God's sake, stop fucking defending him!''

''I'm not defending him! You all saw when he came back. Sure he didn't look well but he wasn't blown out of his mind. I hugged him, Zayn! We talked and you saw him standing on his own two feet. He was just too stressed, alright? He didn’t turn into some…''

''Enough bickering, both of you. Niall, stand between them or they're gonna bite each other's heads off. Please doc, continue, don't mind us pop stars, yeah?’’

‘’Right, well, he didn't overdose but he was close to it. The tremors and shaking, that's signs of withdrawal, signs of imbalance in his body systems. If a week of him taking nothing but anti-anxiety meds instead of just three days passes, it would not only lead to an extreme weight loss but he would be insanely in demand of nothing but the meds. That's addiction right then and there.''

''Well, good thing we didn't get there.''

‘’Yes, good thing, son.’’

‘’Doc, can you please tell us about his fever? 40 degrees cannot be normal and it’s been hours. I’m quite worried.''

''Yes, well, the fever has to do with his medication intake. Frankly, it is cause for concern but it won’t be long now. This is simply his body's way of detoxing the chemicals, sweating it out. Just keep the cold compresses coming and as soon as he is awake, feed him. That boy needs to eat. As for the hallucinations…''

‘’Yes, that’s not comforting. One minute he’s thrashing and mumbling things and the next he’s dead quiet. Mostly quiet and I don’t know if that’s good or bad.’’

‘’Well, if I may be blunt…''

''Please, go ahead.''

''From what I have heard about you guys from the media and especially him, Mr. Tomlinson sounds like a very kind and well-rounded person. The fact that he is privately taking medication for his anxiety does not mean he is not normal. It means he is aware of his problems and is doing his best to fix them. But straying out of his routine, I cannot help but think something must have happened to complicate his life or that perhaps his life has become very stressful for him, he finds the need to seek dullness from prescribed pills. However, I’ve been standing here talking to you young gents and I cannot help but wonder why he's the only one in that bed sweating up a fever if that is the case.''

''First of all, thank you for your honesty and you are somehow right; Louis' been very stressed lately and being the stand-up person that he is, he hasn't told anyone about it, like he's just that type of person so now that we're here, we will definitely not leave his side.''

''That's good to hear, Mr. Payne. Mr. Styles?''

''Harry, please.''

''Harry, you're Mr. Tomlinson’s house mate and from what I hear in the media, you are also his best friend. Perhaps you can shed some light unto the situation about why he has been so stressful? I do not mean divulging private matters, but if there is anything you can offer, anything you can think of that could help me prevent this from happening again? You’ve refused having him brought to a hospital so you have to give me something here. As a doctor, I can give advice if you wish…''

''I really cannot say…''

''Oh for fuck's sake…''

''Zayn, please.''

''No, Liam. I've had it. I'm going for a smoke.''

‘’….’’

''Right, excuse my band mate, doc but in answer to your question, I really cannot say. He has been very stressful lately and he left for three days without telling any of us, including me. He came back in a dreadful state but not any worse than he is. If I know anything I am allowed to say without breaking his confidence I would say it. I just can't.''

''Well, all I can say is, he needs loads of rest and whatever is stressing him out, he needs to stay away from it. Mental and emotional stress can play an even bigger part than physical stress and I think that's what I'm seeing here. His body was the one that took the hit after his mind couldn't anymore. You are his band mates and from what I see, you are also very close friends. Take care of him, yes?''

''Yes, we will. Thank you for your time, doc.''

 

-He wishes he could pretend that it had never happened. But even in his feverish state, he knows that what he told Harry was undeniably true. He just wishes he doesn't have to re-live it, feel the memories all over again….

_Louis remembers that night so vividly, no matter how many years have passed. He remembers being asleep when his legs were suddenly lifted and it’s the worse feeling in the world, feeling like your body doesn't belong to you, that instead of being made of flesh, he felt his body was wet cement and his father's handprints were allowed to sink into him, forming permanent marks that will never fade. He remembers his father's cock pushing into him, dry and with no proper prep, just cheap beer. He'd jolted awake, so tired from not getting enough sleep, from spending all day having fun with Leo but mostly for being kept up by these nighttime acts of filth and his own fear of one night being too loud and unable to hold it in._

_His fears were realized when instead of mumbling to his father, telling him he didn't want it, he'd screamed instead, mostly surprised. His dad must have been in a mood that night, drunker than usual and thinking back, Louis remembers it was Christmas Eve so of course his father was drinking extra. He had no time to dwell further about the matter as his father had not spared even a single moment; fucking Louis down and dirty, legs held firmly in the air by the bent of his knees, spread out against his will. Louis remembers being too tired to put up much of a fight, but also, he does remember knocking his hands against his father's chest, trying to tell him to at least slow down, to just give him a moment. His father didn't care, throwing Louis' legs further aside before gripping Louis' wrists and shoving them above his head, pressing them there. He'd tried to squirm away from the violent thrusts, tried to at least get his father to loosen his grip because his nails were digging into his wrists badly. He'd cried loudly at a nasty thrust, unable to help it and really, he didn't mean it, he just needed a moment, just to get used to it, just to take one deep breathe to last him through his ordeal. His dad didn't give it to him though, fucking him so hard the bed squeaked, the headboard banging against his chipped wall and even the floorboards creaked beneath them._

_“I hate you,” his dad grits out, his eyes cold and glazed yet full of rage. “I hate you. Just fucking take it quietly, you piece of useless shit.”_

_Louis had cried, frightened and hurt. He remembers feeling his wrists swelling more and more, his father's nails digging in deeper with each thrust._

_That's when Leo had come in, barreling through his unlocked door – of all nights, his father hadn't locked the door that night – yelling at his dad to stop._

_He'd cried harder when his dad back-handed Leo, feeling so useless, just like his dad said he was._

_“Daddy, stop it,” Leo had ordered, an unstoppable little force, once again hitting his dad's back with his small fists._

_If Louis' hands weren't locked down, he would have tried to reach out, tried to shove Leo out of his room. All he could do instead was move his face, hoping it was in Leo's view, trying to contort it to an expression not filled with too much agony._

_“Go to bed, Leo. Please.” He'd said and well, it was pointless because he was still crying and Leo could see it, could see that their dad was still fucking Louis so hard, his voice was muddled with the sound of the bed creaking. He couldn't think, couldn't process anything, couldn't believe that his brother was seeing all of this, everything that he'd tried so hard to be quiet about so that he didn't have to be standing there, trying to protect Louis; trying to save him._

_He couldn't do anything._

_He couldn't do a damn thing when their dad had lost it, sick of Leo’s incessant whining and threw the boy like he was garbage unto the floor. He couldn't do anything when his dad crawled over Leo, trapping his bruised body then just ripped his bottoms down._

_Leo had screamed in fright for him and their dad slapped him across the cheek before violently turning his body over and Louis, he saw it happen, saw his dad's cock shoving into Leo's tiny body so fucking hard, Leo's scream penetrated his ear drums like a banshee. He screamed for so long and so hard until he saw their dad slap the back of Leo’s head really hard, trying to knock him out but all it did was weaken Leo and turn his wailing into unbearable sobs._

_Louis remembers crawling towards the floor, body thudding over the bed, trying to stop their dad, trying to do anything. Louis doesn't know, till this day, which was worse; hearing Leo's screams or sobs but he remembers how much it hurt to hear both, how he felt a sob rip from his own throat, trying to stop it from going on, trying to save his brother. All he ever wanted to do was protect him and he couldn't do it. It's the one thing he was supposed to do, above all else, and he couldn't even do that._

_“Stop,” he'd sobbed hoarsely, reaching their dad's forearm. He'd gripped the man's elbow, tugged at his dad's arm, trying to get him to let go of Leo's hips where bruisings were sure to form if he'd kept holding the flesh there so tight. He pulled, trying to get his attention enough so that maybe he'll remember his anger and all his hate directed towards Louis and come back to fucking him instead. He yanked and pleaded, but his dad, impatient and in a foul mood, had gripped a handful of Louis' hair and knocked his head on the floor. Louis cried out at the impact, voice shot and felt his skin break. All of a sudden, he felt dizzy from the sudden impact and he'd realized then that he couldn't do it. He couldn't protect his brother. He'd failed him beyond measure, knowing he couldn't do it. He couldn't protect his brother._

_Leo's sobs had turned into sniffles and despite his despair; Louis had tried getting up to reach him again, moving his hands until both palms rested on the floor. He'd tried lifting his body up but a sudden sizable pain sprinted up from the bottom of his spine to the bones of his wrists. He remembers falling back onto the floor, shaking, muscles convulsing painfully and before he knows it…_

_“Take it, you little shit. You like that, huh?” He'd heard his dad taunting and he could swear he'd also heard his grip on Leo's hips tighten, could hear the sound of Leo’s bones creaking and he’d have done anything, to feel the bed creak instead, to have his dad’s cock in him instead of hearing the crush of his brother’s bones between their father’s iron grip. “Fucking take it, that's what you get.”_

_Louis remembers crying hoarsely at this point, just letting it all go. He'd cried so hard while trying a second attempt to lift himself up but it was too much and his stomach couldn't handle it anymore. He'd vomited violently to the sounds of their dad grunting a familiar sound, adding more to Louis' horror. He'd passed out then, knowing that his dad was coming inside of Leo…_

 

Panic grips him tightly and he sits up so quickly his head spins and his vision blacks out. He can hear broken sobs from nearby, like the sirens that night and realizes, as he tears the sheets away from his body, that the sounds were coming from him.

 He's still panicking though, trying to rip off the sheets twisting around his legs but he's thrashing so badly that he just slides off the mattress with a thud, landing on his back with a painful groan and hitting the back of his head against the bed side table.

He groans and shuts his eyes tight, turning towards his side and folding himself into a cocoon.

He tries to calm down, taking deep breaths, trying to fight his way through his sobs. His brain is still fuzzy and he realizes he is awake but barely. Spots of color dance before him and blurred outlines of a dresser and a walk-in closet come to view. He realizes belatedly that he is in Harry’s bedroom before he closes his eyes and tries to lessen the sounds of his harsh breathing.

His limbs feel heavy and he feels like an anchor falling into the bottom of the ocean, feels like blocks of concrete have replaced his arms because he can barely wrap them around his biceps.

Louis turns his forehead to the floor, lips mouthing at the floorboards, still trying to take in deep breaths. His teary cheek rubs over the coolness he finds but the fact is, he is on the floor and finds it best to get up.

He stays for a while though, because he is still crying silently even after he’d evened his breathing a bit. When he deems himself ready, he moves his arm, pushing his elbow towards his ribs for leverage and with his other arm, pushes his palm against the floor. He feels so weak though, so utterly weak that both his arms shake and he only lifts his head off the floor an increment before thudding back, arms giving way. His elbow knocks against his ribs and he groans at the pain, cheek mushed against the floor. He turns to his stomach, trying to find another angle but his arm is caught between his ribs and the floor and it felt like his whole weight was pressing down on it, crushing his lungs in the in between and again, it’s getting hard to breathe. His palm once again pushes, trying to at least free his trapped arm but, even with his forehead sliding against the floor, trying to lift his head at the same time, Louis barely manages to lift his body more than a few inches before he thuds right back again, knocking the breath out of him harshly. He feels a stinging sensation all across his body from his failed attempts, sweat starting to collect at the back of his neck and dip of his spine. He feels his clothes sticking to him, weighting him down even. His harsh breathing is turning his mouth and lips dry, making him more uncomfortable.

He panics again, feels like he’s drowning further and without thinking, he just opens his mouth, letting out his hoarse voice.

‘’Harry…’’

It feels like there’s liquid in his ears so he’s not sure if he screamed the name or not, but there is the sound of a door opening and even though he’s sinking into deeper waters, he hears it.

‘’Lou!’’

Footsteps make the ground shake beneath his body, approaching fast. Louis still can’t open his eyes, can’t bloody breathe properly but he knows the owner of the hands reaching for him, gently turning him over onto his back, gently lifting him, knows the arm slipping around his shoulder, cradling him in.

He feels a thumb brushing the corner of his eye, fingers sliding across his matted fringe, a palm framing his cheek and for a blissful moment, time stands still. Louis never knew what safety was, until Harry loved him, until he fell in love with him too. He feels afloat, no longer sinking into a dark abyss, sheltered and safe, so safe.

He carries that one last thought with him as he’s carried back to bed, mattress dipping a bit from his weight. He feels blankets being draped over him, the pillow beneath his head adjusted and before he knows it, he’s out like the lights, a lingering kiss to his forehead the only remnant of this wonderful dream...

 

_-Leo isn’t screaming anymore when Louis comes out of it. He doesn’t know when he’d stopped or how much time had passed but when Louis turns his head, he realizes that the nightmare was real. He sees his dad flat out drunk and passed out on top of Leo’s body, to the point that if Louis didn’t know any better, he’d think no one was underneath the man. But Leo’s there when Louis finally finds the strength to move, crushed under their father’s weight, soundless._

_The sight makes Louis want to be sick again, but he holds it down, knowing what he has to do, focusing on what needs to be done._

_He crawls over and pushes at his old man’s side, until the man capsizes like a ship on her starboard side. The man doesn’t startle, just grunts in his sleep. Louis quickly pulls Leo into his arms before the man thuds back unto his stomach, legs tangled with Leo’s. For a second there, Louis gulps at the fear that the man might wake up from too much movement but thankfully, when he frees Leo’s legs, he doesn’t. Louis pulls Leo into his chest then gets his free arm under the boy’s bum. That’s when he feels the blood. And before he knows it, he’s out there like the speed of light..._

Louis wakes for the second time, startled again but much calmer than before. Still, he closes his eyes and tries to retreat further into the whiteness, the numbness, so far that he would never find pain again.

He closes his eyes and feels tears on his lashes. He’s not surprised. He’ll never forget that night. He’ll never forget the feel of blood on his palm, dripping from his brother’s bum and knowing the reason behind it. He’ll never forget the cold that night, the pain that had engulfed his body and how the policemen and doctors looked at him when he’d asked for help, almost naked with Leo passed out in his arms.

He feels his mind crowding him again and this time, he doesn’t give in. Instead, he strives to find that safe haven his memory where the darkness couldn’t reach. He finds himself remembering Harry, a brief touch, a familiar, irreplaceable warmth and whatever simmering panic that had startled him awake fades a little bit at the thought. Louis sinks into the bed, drowning in safety and slowly, slowly, his racing mind and troubled thoughts wrap up in green, knowing that Harry is around, knowing that he’s near, and for the first time in such a long time, he’s grateful for what little mercy he’s finally received, for finding Harry at the end of his long, dark tunnel.

He doesn’t want to fall back asleep, tired of waking up in fright and so, he focuses on sparkling eyes, on wrapping his body around Harry. He misses reading to him, misses kissing the crown of his curls, and wonders, with a sudden, frowning tilt to his mouth, if he’ll ever be good enough.

He opens his eyes at that thought and realizes his eyes are dripping. His sniffling rouses someone nearby because before he knows it, another body dips next to him, sitting at the edge of the bed.

‘’Lou?’’

Louis looks up and sees Harry. He’s wearing a navy blue shirt tucked underneath a pair of pajamas and he looks really adorable but also really concerned. His hair looks frazzled, like he’d just woken and Louis realizes belatedly, from the blanket that had landed on the floor around Harry’s feet, that Harry must have been falling asleep or actually asleep sitting up on the chair he keeps by the dresser, now pulled towards the bed. His curls are sticking out in wayward directions and his eyes are slightly red-rimmed and his nose is a bit drippy. He’s been crying.

‘’Hey,’’ Louis croaks out.

‘’Hey,’’ Harry replies like a weight’s been lifted off him. He sniffles and smiles slightly. ‘’Miss you.’’

It’s such a sudden thing to say but Louis feels that ball of warmth again. ‘’Miss you too.’’

‘’Can I help you sit up, please?’’ Harry bluntly asks, face turning serious.

‘’Sure,’’ Louis says hesitantly, more confused about Harry’s urgent mannerism than anything else but then he realizes he’s barely eaten anything in more than three days and that he’d also vomited twice in that span of time so he understands. Still, Harry moves gently, with no rush, as he cups Louis’ armpits and pulls him up. He fluffs the pillows behind him with one hand while his other hand lands at Louis’ side, just above his hipbone before he eases Louis back into the pillows. Louis relaxes against the headboard. He doesn’t feel as weak but knows that if he tries to get up, he’ll wobble badly.

‘’You need to eat.’’ Harry says and when Louis turns his head, he sees Harry unwrapping foil from a big plate, revealing slices of homemade pizza.

‘’They’re still warm,’’ Harry puts the plate on his lap and gently, like a second thought, wraps Louis’ hands around the rim of the plate. His eyes are down, watching his thumb skim Louis knuckles.

‘’Please, eat.’’ He pleads quietly.

Louis doesn’t hesitate. He’s actually really hungry and as much as he’d like to keep his hands cocooned in Harry’s bigger ones, he decides to ease the boy’s mind and dig in.

Harry watches him, eyes following every bite, even as he reaches for his orange juice, his eyes never leave Louis, still following him above the rim of his glass whenever he takes a sip.

Louis eats all eight slices, leaving one crust, before drinking a second cup of orange juice that Harry hands over to him. It’s not so very cold, like it’s been at the table for a while but Louis drinks it all. Harry puts all the utensils on the bed side table and looks mildly satisfied.

‘’What time is it?’’ Louis asks. They’ve been quiet while he ate, like Harry didn’t want to interrupt, so desperate to get food in him.

‘’It’s 9 am. You’ve been out cold since yesterday, more or less.’’ Harry replies, eyes downcast. He’d folded his leg underneath him, hands in his lap, voice quiet. Louis had never seen him so subdued.

‘’You’ve never fed me pizza for breakfast before.’’ Louis comments, hopes he can lighten the mood. A small smile briefly graces Harry’s lips but disappears in a second. His eyes are still downcast and he also doesn’t reply.

Louis realizes he’s going to have to meet the eye of the storm then.

‘’I’ve told you some things.’’

‘’Yes,’’ is the reply he gets.

‘’Harry, look at me.’’

Harry looks up, eyes guarded and Louis wants to recoil for some reason. He’s never been shut out by Harry before, even when they were broken up, it was only after Louis had pushed him so far away that he took the message, only stepping back because it was what Louis wanted but never like this.

‘’What are you thinking?’’ Louis has to ask.

Harry bites his lip and takes a deep breathe.

‘’I think you need help, Lou. I’m sorry, but I think you need counseling, a professional, something.’’ His eyes turn desperate. ‘’You need help.’’


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay, I'm back.  
> so so sorry for the delay, my mom's heart condition had been acting out lately and between work and hospital appointments, I lost track of time.  
> Inspirations from a couple of the past mentioned fics, the usual :D anyways, enjoy :D

_''Because you never think that the last time is the last time. You think there will be more. You think you have forever but you don't''_

_Meredith Grey, Grey's Anatomy  
_

 

He finally says it, finally gets out what he'd been thinking all this time. It was terrifying, to say the least, when Louis passed out on him, skin gray and icky. Harry had panicked so badly, he called Paul and asked for a doctor to come to the house straight away. While waiting, he couldn't bear to cradle Louis to his chest in silence, so as an after-thought, he’d called the boys over. While waiting for their arrival, he'd cleaned Louis up before placing him in his bed and when the boys came and saw the vomit, Harry had just broken down.

After mumbling out a coherent version stating that Louis was terribly sick, Liam and Zayn went up to the bedroom and stayed by Louis' side because the smell of vomit irked Zayn and Liam would not leave Louis. So, Harry and Niall cleaned the carpet but when Zayn came back downstairs, he'd gagged and cleaned the carpet again because the smell still lingered.

That's when the doctor came.

Zayn saw red because this whole time he thought an ambulance was on its way. Fuming, he’d waited until Harry entered the bedroom and explained briefly to the doctor what had happened, insisting the boys stay out. When he'd left the doctor with Louis and shut the door, he'd proceeded to tell them that Louis would not want a hospital and well, what a screaming session that was.

''Are you an absolute twat?'' Zayn had yelled, uncaring that the doctor could hear. ''He’s hallucinating in there and sweating buckets and you just thought…You know what? I didn't think that love could make a person so fucking blind!''

''I didn't do it because of that; it just wasn't worth a hospital trip.'' Harry also knows by now that hospitals irk Louis, the sound of sirens unsettling for him.

They'd continued to argue back and forth until the doctor came out and explained a few things that added more to Zayn's rage. But at the end of it, after the boys reheated the take-out Harry had ordered and ate dinner together –Zayn had left, unable to sit quiet without biting Harry's head off- Harry figured out that Louis cannot continue living like this. _He_ cannot continue living like this.

This was more cemented when he'd gone up to his bedroom after dinner to find Louis calling for him from where he'd fallen on the floor, unable to even get himself up. He'd stayed up with him all night after that, watched him toss and turn, mumble words in semi-hysterics. He’d wiped his brow –and tears- every now and then and finally, at 4 am, Louis' fever had dimmed. Harry didn't sleep, though because Louis was still too warm and mumbling in his sleep. Only when Louis had turned quiet and passed out again, Harry got up and made pizza for breakfast, unable to stand the fact that Louis hadn't eaten even an ounce of food since he'd come back.

He brings up a jar of orange juice, two glasses and one foiled plate filled with pizza slices and watched the sun rise.

At 9 am, here he is, begging Louis to seek counseling.

''I don't want that.'' Louis immediately refuses, just as Harry has somehow expected.

''Look, I know it's hard, and I know…''

''No,'' Louis interrupts, recoiling from Harry, shocked and hurt. ''No, Harry, I, you don't know what you're saying, okay? I have bad days, just like everybody else, I deal…''

''Louis, this is not dealing,'' Harry interrupts kindly and doesn’t add to the fact that Louis’ bad days are so not like everybody else’s. Hysterics and hallucinations are not normal bad days. ''You're suffering, babe.''

''Well, of course it's not easy.'' Louis points out indignantly.

''It hasn't been easy for the past six years, yes?'' Louis turns quiet, eyes avoiding Harry's. ''It won't hurt to try, you know, to talk to a professional, tell someone that…''

''I told _you_ ,'' Louis points out, eyes pleading. ''Isn't that enough?''

''Yes, but I couldn't help you.'' Harry's voice thickens. ''I didn't know what do, Lou. Half the time…''

''That's not your fault.''

''Lou,'' Harry closes his eyes and takes a deep breathe. He knew this would be hard especially because he’d always found it harder to refuse Louis. Still, he cannot give up. He looks Louis in the eye and hates the sternness in his voice. ''I am not going to run in circles about this. I love you and I want you to seek help.''

''You can't force me.'' Louis says quietly and the silence thickens till Harry can no longer bear it.

''Then I don't know how long I can do this,'' Harry says before he gets up and walks to the end of the bed, unable to face Louis' eyes or watch his expression of betrayal. He is not betraying Louis, he reminds himself; he is doing this for his sake.

At that, Harry hears Louis inhale sharply. He turns around, unable to help himself and sees Louis' wide blue eyes brimming.

''What? Haz, what do you mean by that?’’

‘’There’s no point in me being here if I can’t help you and I can’t force you to seek help either, you’re right, so this whole thing is really just…pointless.’’ Harry ends, standing sideways and hoping Louis cannot see his weak resolve. He doesn’t want to leave Louis with Liam or any of the boys to stay with him, but he also doesn’t want Louis to know that.

But Louis figures out what he means and what he’s willing to do regardless, if the way his eyes fill with hurt are of any indication.

‘’No, don't do this to me. I can't do this without you, please.'' Louis begs.

''I cannot help you,'' Harry stays put, but his voice is wavering.

''You have!'' Louis cries as he starts to breathe really sharply, like he's experiencing the beginning of a panic attack. ''Hazzie, you don't think I haven't been with professionals before? You think the social workers from child's services didn't set me up with one? With a dozen? It's mandatory, Haz. And you know what? They're the exact same people who took Leo away from me.'' Louis' voice shakes at that no matter how hard he tries to sound resolute.

Harry frowns, confused.

''You have to explain that...'' Harry starts.

''Just promise you won't leave.'' Louis' hand slides across the duvet like he wants to hold Harry's hand, wants to reach out to him. ''Harry I, you know I lov…''

‘’Don't,'' Harry has to draw the line here. He'll listen to Louis. He'll consider the whole counseling thing but Louis saying he loves him as a bargaining deal is going to hurt. Selfishly, he wants Louis to mean it, wants Louis to love him unconditionally, just the way he does. ''Don't say that to me when you won't mean it.''

Louis looks stricken and Harry cannot leave it at that.

''Look, I know you've meant it before, I heard you. I just know you won't mean it right now and I'm okay with that. Alright? I'll wait but right now, you're just gonna tear me apart, babe and I'm already so gone for you. Okay?''

Louis nods, ashamed.

''But you know the truth, right? You know I just didn't want you back as a best mate. You know that, right?''

''I know.'' Harry smiles dimly because he didn’t know but no need for Louis to know that either. ''I just don't think right now is the time for that, okay?''

Louis nods. ''Can you come here, please?''

Harry doesn't hesitate. He sits by the edge of the bed and is surprised when Louis meets him halfway, folding his duvet covered legs into a crisscross and pulling Harry’s arm into a vice before setting his head on Harry’s shoulder.

‘’I know I worry you but believe me, I’ve never wanted to do that.’’ Louis mumbles quietly.

‘’You worry me even you’re absolutely fine, Lou, that’s not the problem here.’’

‘’Am I a problem?’’ Louis looks up at him, ashamed.

‘’You’re not, that’s not what I meant so don’t you dare start thinking you are, you hear me?’’

Louis nods, half-convinced.

‘’You’re still going to leave me though, right? If I don’t cooperate with you? That’s what this whole intervention conversation is leading up to, right?"

Harry looks away because he didn’t mean to make it sound like an ultimatum. 

"I don't know," he says honestly.

"Harry, I love you," Louis blurts out suddenly, sitting up straight and squeezing Harry’s hand between his own. He looks on the verge of tears. Harry is quite sure he is mirroring his expression though because Louis should not have said that.

‘’God, Lou…’’

"Please, it’s the truth. I know it’s hard to hear right now and maybe another day I’ll mean it in all the ways it’s supposed to be meant or say it the way I know will make me sure it’s everything but I’m saying it now because you need to give me a chance. Please, I’m not a lost cause, Haz. Don’t give up on me.’’ His voice turns wobbly in the end, in a way that tears Harry’s heart badly, in a way that cements the fact that he cannot give up on Louis ever, even if there is no way but for him to go through with it.

‘’Come here.’’

He hugs Louis to his side while the boy immediately burrows into him, arms hugging his midriff and head buried in his throat.

‘’I won't give up on you,'' Harry says quietly and forces himself to add. ''But I am willing to give up on us if it means you get better as a person. I can do that.''

''I can't,'' Louis's voice sounds torn.

''You did it once before,'' Harry reminds him gently. ''And we came out fine; unhappy but fine; the both of us.''

‘’No, I wasn’t fine. I was unhappy.’’ Louis squeezes him tighter, burying his face in Harry’s neck. ‘’God, I miss this.’’

Harry enjoys the respite of having Louis close to him. Last time he'd tried touching Louis, his ear drums almost burst from the frightened screaming he received. It's all the more reason that Louis needs help.

''Are you thinking about my suggestion?'' he tries, rubbing Louis' side up and down, letting him know it's okay between them.

''I will.'' Harry sighs; unsatisfied with Louis' answer. ''I swear. If that's what it takes to keep you, I will."

Harry didn't want to hear that when before it would have brightened up his day. He had always asked Louis to do things for him, to feel better,  to get better for him. He now realizes how selfish that was, how loving Louis the way he did and expecting Louis to love him just as much was so unfair. Now, he realizes what the right thing to do by Louis is. He wants Louis to seek help for himself and not for him because it's the right thing to do even if it hurts putting their relationship aside. If he lets himself float a bit, he knows that this moment ought to make him feel good somehow, all because Louis would even consider getting better for his sake but he can't let himself be that selfish again. Looking back, he doesn't really think he is all that worth it, considering that breaking up was once a good idea and a needed one at a time.

''What's on your mind then?'' Harry asks instead.

‘’I’ve never told you about all those times I'd rushed back to London, haven’t I?’’ Louis says after a while. His inhibitions are unusually low today and Harry wonders if it’s because he’s still tired from his convalescence or because he wants to please Harry.

''No, you haven't. But I do wonder about that.''

''Yeah,''

They're quiet for a bit then Louis takes a breath.

''Truth is,'' Louis starts. ''Ever since I'd settled down with Jay, I've been looking for Leo.''

Harry should not have been surprised by this, so maybe it's because Louis is being so open about it suddenly and not being coaxed out.

''Yeah?''

Louis hums. ''We'd made a deal, her and I, that in exchange for letting me go, I have to stay in contact with her or else she'll stop sending me my prescriptions. I agreed because I know that she doesn't mean to harm me in any way. I know that she simply wants to help me.''

''She sounds really sweet.'' Harry says even though he hardly knows Jay to have any input in the matter.

''She is and I know she'd wanted me to stay with her at the time, which is why she'd been trying to help me find Leo too.'' Louis sits up but keeps Harry's hand between his palms. ''I'd stayed with her for three months before I decided to leave and after that, I worked so that I could save enough money and use it to go from one place to another, looking for clues, anything. I'd started with hospitals so that I can look into their records and ask about Leo's whereabouts from there. Back then, when I was Louis Austin and not Louis Tomlinson, it was easy to barge in, flash my ID and get answers when I'd ask about my brother.''

''Wait a second,'' Harry interrupts. ''You mean you don't know the hospital where you last saw him is?''

''No,'' Louis answers honestly. ''My whole life became Leo after mom left so it was always school and home and nothing else. And that night, it was so dark and all I cared about was getting us to a safe place. I don't even remember where I used to live in London. Maybe if I see the place or whatever but. I was fifteen, Haz, and I'd moved a lot from that night, you know?''

Harry knows what night Louis means but he doesn't know what Louis moving a lot entails, is barely taking it all in.

''Like,'' Louis only hesitates briefly. ''Did you know that when I was seventeen, I'd moved through 31 foster care houses?''

''What?'' Harry's sure his eyes just bulged.

''Yeah,'' Louis smiles sadly. ''The year before that, I spent it in a loony bin so I was quite unstable, to say the least. I kept escaping from one foster care to another after that, trying to find Leo.''

Harry averts his eyes and breathes out shakily, his heart breaking at Louis’ words. He doesn’t understand how the authorities couldn't figure out that the only way Louis could have been stable and happy was reuniting him with his brother and not tearing them further and further apart.

‘’God Harry,’’ Louis suddenly chuckles; shaking his head at Harry and making the boy snap his eyes back at him.

‘’What?’’

‘’How are you not running away from me right now? Have I not shocked you enough?’’

‘’Lou…’’

‘’I just told you I was certified insane once and you’re still holding my hand.’’ Louis interrupts. He sounds genuinely upset.

‘’Well I’m still in love with you so maybe I should be certified insane too.’’ Harry says easily before he realizes what he just blathered out. Again and again, he keeps getting his feelings in the mix, like a force is compelling him to always speak his mind with no filter.

‘’Well aren’t we compatible?’’ Louis says dryly after a long moment in which Harry contemplates his entire existence.

‘’Sure are, love.’’ Harry squeezes his hand in assurance.

Louis just looks at him like he wants to see his soul, but his eyes are sad.

‘’You really believe me? Because a lot of people didn’t; coming out of a loony bin kinda makes you lose your credibility in front of people, even if you were put there out of force. Makes no difference, you know?’’ Louis points out.

Harry nods because he can see where Louis is coming from. He wonders if that’s also the reason Louis had escaped a lot, because people didn’t believe him but thought he was a madman simply because of his background. He wonders what kind of system fucks people up like that and finds the need to ask even though he's worried about the answer.

''What do you mean by that? When you say 'loony bin'?''

''Some sort of psychiatric ward for children. They probably thought it would help me get over the, you know,'' Louis averts his eyes and Harry knows then that he means the sexual abuse. It's so creepy and it freaks the hell out of him, knowing that part of Louis' dad, however big that part may be, wanted him that way. It’s sick and so very wrong, and it makes his skin crawl.  

''Oh,''

''Yeah, um, I was sent there and was forced to stay there for 8 months. Worse time of my life,'' Louis tries to laugh it off but it's hollow and Harry's chest ache.

''God, Lou.''

Louis squeezes his hand and shrugs.

''What was it like, if I may ask?'' Harry asks carefully. He doesn't want to trigger Louis again, doesn't want him to drown in a down-ward spiral.

“It was...” he starts, like he too is trying to wrap his head around the harsh reality of his past. ''It felt like a punishment, like, losing Leo should not have made me…crazy.'' He looks Harry in the eye here, eyes blue, blue, blue; he can still take Harry's breath away.

''It all really started that night,'' he continues. ''I left our house with nothing but Leo in my arms and walked for so long I thought I'd left London but then a police station came to view and I would've run had I not had Leo to protect. It was bizarre, telling the two policemen that had approached me that my dad hurt my brother and that I saw blood and seeing understanding in their eyes. One of them told me to sit down so that I could rest a bit, and he was so careful, so understanding. But he was a stranger, Harry.'' Louis' eyes were incredulous as he looked at Harry. ''And yet, he knew exactly what had happened.''

''It must've been a relief though,'' Harry says; voice soft. ''To have someone there for you, someone who could help for once.''

''Not really,'' Louis shrugs.

''What do you mean?''

''I don't know; I feel like if I hadn't gone there, things wouldn't have gotten worse.''

Harry looks at him with a confused expression, compelling Louis to continue.

''The other policeman, the one who didn't sit with me and ask me questions, brought his patrol car around and the four of us went to the nearest hospital. It was so strange because once we'd gotten there; I couldn't bear the thought of anybody touching Leo. I shouted at the nurses, the doctors, all of them trying to calm me down but as soon as they'd come nearer and tried to pluck Leo from me, I just freaked out, like I had any right to threaten anybody.'' He chuckles wetly here, and Harry notices that his eyes have welled up. ''I only let him go to be checked when a female doctor approached and told me that only two female nurses from her staff and herself were going to check on his injuries, no men allowed. Only then I agreed for them to escort me to a private room where I laid Leo on the hospital bed before I sat by the door outside so that I could guard it.'' Louis pauses as he averts his eyes again and HHarry notices that his lips are shaking. ''He was so hurt, Harry.'' A raspy voice, so thick, comes out of his lips. ''He was passed out when I leaned in to kiss his forehead, assuring him that I won’t be far and I can’t remember if he was still bleeding or anything because I was so focused on the fact that I couldn't bear the thought of anybody else hurting him let alone prodding and touching and…''

''Hey, hey, it's alright,'' Harry rubs one of his covered feet with his free hand, his thumb making gentle motions. ‘’You don’t have to continue if you can’t anymore.’’ Louis looks up at him here, eyes shining. ‘’Honestly I’m surprised you’re letting all this out, that you’re trusting me with this but you don’t have to go on if it hurts you too much.’’

‘’It’s because you don’t understand and I really need you to,’’ Louis tells him seriously. ‘’You don’t understand how fooled I was that night, how it really all began that night.’’

‘’Okay,’’ Harry says carefully, dread pooling in his stomach.

‘’Not a minute after I sat down on the floor outside the room where Leo was, a social worker from child’s services came up to me and asked me what had happened. I was too tired to be nice so I told her the truth, that Leo got hurt because he was trying to stop my dad from fucking me.’’ Harry winced silently at that but didn’t interrupt. ‘’She asked me how long it’s been going on before she called a doctor and a nurse and they had me escorted to another private room. They told me to undress and then hook my legs on stirrups so they could check out the damage. Not that I cared, I was used to the position anyway.’’

Harry’s face scrunches up at that and he blinks rapidly to stop any incoming tears from making an appearance.

‘’Next thing I know though, my eyes are drooping and the last thing I remember is the nurse putting my legs down and covering me with a blanket. I was out cold.’’

‘’I’m glad that, even though you had a shitty night, you got to rest in the end,’’ Harry says before he notes the angry look in Louis’ eyes.

‘’I shouldn’t have,’’ Louis says fiercely. ‘’I shouldn’t have let my guard down.’’

‘’What do you mean?’’

‘’I woke up the next day and realized that I had fallen asleep, right? So I dressed up quickly before I charged towards Leo’s room and that’s when I found it empty.’’ Harry doesn’t tell Louis that he is squeezing his hand in a vice and it hurts a bit but Harry doesn’t interrupt, aware of Louis’ need to let this out.

‘’I demanded where he was, my blood boiling within seconds when I found unfamiliar faces answering me and not the people who had helped me the night before. I was so out of my mind that next thing I know, a policeman was hand-cuffing me and escorting me out of the ER and that was it, I never saw Leo again.’’

‘’Wait, what? They hand-cuffed you?’’ Harry now understands what it means to feel his blood boil, because what the actual fuck?

‘’Yes, like I was some madman who had disturbed hospital grounds, like I wasn’t a patient asking for some valid answers. I know I must have done something crazy, I know that but I can’t remember, like my rage made me see nothing. All I know is that I was so, so angry, Harry because they had no right, okay? They had zero fucking…’’

Louis growls as he squeezes his eyes and next thing Harry knows, Louis is sitting away from him, legs untangling so that his feet land on the floor and his elbows are on his knees, hands squeezing his temples like his thoughts are aching him, fingers running blunt against the back of his head like he’s trying to rip his anger out.

‘’God, I wanted to kill all of them. How dare they do that to me?’’ Louis demands, voice hurt and breaking.

‘’Lou, hey, calm down, okay? No more talking…’’ Harry tries to comfort him but Louis wouldn’t let him.

‘’They locked me in a police car while I tried to break the glass window with my feet. I didn’t care that my wrists were bleeding from the cuffs, I didn’t care that people were looking at me from the streets. I just wanted Leo, I just…’’

‘’Lou…’’

‘’Then another social worker arrived and he said a few fucking words to the policemen while glancing at me and before I knew it, they were driving me away to a juvenile holding house that I figured was part of a court jail but for minors because apparently my dad was being prosecuted for his crimes and I needed to be held there in case I was needed as a witness, like I gave a fuck.’’ Louis sits up slightly, hands gripping the sheets by his thighs and head hanging between his shoulders, staring at a distance, his blue eyes ablaze.

‘’I stayed there for two weeks and no one spoke to me or gave me answers that I wanted, just food and a bed to sleep in and I hated it so much, I tried to punch anybody who gave me bullshit answers instead of real ones.’’

Harry sat there in silence listening. He knows deep in his heart that Louis is not a violent person and he can see how the circumstances back then compelled him to act out such thrashing behavior but it doesn’t mean that he isn’t slightly intimidated or maybe awed because he can see it, the way he’d seen it every day; Louis’ fierceness to protect is incomparable. He just wishes it had worked back then.  

''I couldn’t understand how nobody knew what I was asking; why I was separated from Leo, why I was being violated of my rights. No one suddenly gave a damn that my dad nearly ripped me open not even a day before and that my lower half fucking ached or that my wrists were bleeding from the damn metal cuffs. How is it that nobody cared?”

Harry winces and nods silently, because he doesn’t understand that part either.

“It was hell, waiting there, trying to stay sane and not let your body give out on you.” Louis mutters, voice cracking.

“I’m sure.” Harry croaks out, not wanting to break whatever Louis was on. He wanted to hear all this, no he needed to. He needed to understand.

‘’It was over though or not, depending on how you looked at it. Finally, after fourteen days, a lawyer came up to me. I remember he wore a grey suit and was really young. He told me that my dad was sentenced for life for what he did but I didn’t give a shit. I wanted Leo. Apparently though, he didn’t know that we’ve been separated and he promised me, Harry.’’ Louis laughs here, but it’s dry and lifeless, especially as tears start to stream down his face involuntarily. ‘’He promised me he’ll come back and get me and Leo together. I believed him, I thanked him. I even caught his hand between the jail bars and kissed it many times, asking him to hurry.’’ Louis buries his face in his hands here, voice muffled. ‘’But he was too late. Another social worker came and told me she was taking me to a safe place. I didn’t want to go, I wanted to wait for that lawyer guy, and I fought and I fought until three guards took me out by force and even knocked me out. Next thing I know, I saw the gates to a psychiatric ward come to view and it was the last thing I saw for 8 months.’’

Harry didn’t need Louis to continue to realize that Louis’ life was hell from then on. His eyes tear up as Louis tries to calm himself down after his onslaught and he swallows the lump in his throat and blinks a few times because he too needs to get himself together.

“Can’t believe people can be so terrible.” Harry mumbles. How cruel, he wants to say. How awful, how unjust but he doesn’t voice them out because it’s too late and they’re here now, in the present, where all is left unfixed.  “I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” Louis sighs.

“And I believe everything you say, Lou. I really do.’’ Louis looks up at him here, cheeks splotched and eyes swimming. ‘’Doesn’t mean you’re not still hurt by it; even I can see that. It doesn’t mean I will throw you to the wolves and get terrible people to help you. I won’t let that happen to you, Lou. ”

Louis’ eyes blink and look away for a second and Harry knows it’s because an idea is formulating in his mind; that Louis is thinking of something big.

‘’I have a better solution for me, though.’’

‘’What is it? Anything Lou, I’ll do anything for you.’’ Harry assures him.

‘’Every time I go back to London suddenly, it’s because Jay would come close to people at the hospital where she works, people who work for social services, investigators, lawyers and she’d always hoped they would have the answers that I wanted, like reach out within their connections for them or by using their own means and resources. I’d rush back every time, hoping they could help me, but either Jay and I had no money to pay them to go further or they couldn’t go above their bosses to access the files they think had the answers I needed.’’

‘’Okay,’’ Harry drawls as he tries to follow Louis’ line of thinking.

‘’You remember the last time I rushed back to London, right?’’ Louis asks.

‘’Yeah, I did. You did it once or twice before that too, I think.’’

‘’It didn’t work out because I’m Louis Tomlinson of One Direction now and apparently, some adults do know me and I was somehow recognized by them. I’d freaked out because I cannot let the press find out so I’d just up and leave, never bothered to say anything and left Jay to pick up the pieces.’’ Louis pauses as he smiles sadly. ‘’Can you imagine what management would have done if I’d talked to those people without them signing an NDA first? Without checking their background and making sure they won’t twist the system against me and demand money out of it?’’

It then hits Harry what Louis is trying to say.

‘’So, we’ll get management to do it.’’ Harry says before his words rush away. ‘’Only Simon knows so he can help us, he can get us a the best Private I out there and it will be discreet and we’ll find Leo then.’’

‘’Yes,’’ Louis says hurriedly as he turns around, bending one leg and tucking it in so he can face Harry. ‘’I want that so badly. I just don’t have the guts to ask and we…’’ he pauses.

‘’What, tell me.’’ Harry mimics his position so that they can face each other.

‘’We’re doing this together? You’re going to be with me?’’ Louis asks timidly as he reaches for both of Harry’s hands and squeezes. His eyes are so earnest but Harry sees the truth. He sees How Louis is afraid of getting his hopes up, sees how he must have also been like this with that young lawyer all those years ago, can see in Louis’ eyes all his hopes and dreams the way he did when they stood as a band on a stage for the very first time two years ago.

He cannot disappoint Louis even though he is afraid of what this road they are about to embark on might lead nowhere. What if Louis doesn’t like what he finds? Looking at Louis now, he can tell that Louis has been, is still, afraid of that too, afraid that it’s just been too long and maybe things might not turn out the way he wants them too. Not to mention the fact that they are practically looking for one person in the entirety of London who has been out of reach for more than six years. He might not even be in the same country since God knows Harry has no idea how the system really works. Will they even find Leo? And even if they do, will he be what Louis expects? Will he be okay?

Louis keeps looking at him like he has all the answers, and Harry, despite himself, cannot disappoint.

‘’Of course, Lou. You know I’ll always want to help you.”

‘’You’re serious.’’ Louis cannot help but say.

‘’You know what?’’ Harry starts now that the thought has appeared in his head. ‘’Tomorrow, we’re having a meeting with Simon to talk about the movie premiere, right? We’ll tell him then, after the boys and our team leave. Just you, me and him. We’ll get this in motion, Lou and we won’t back out.’’

Louis buries his face in Harry’s chest, like he cannot contain himself.

‘’Tell me I’ll see him soon. Tell me this is really happening.’’

Harry is not sure about the first part but with slight excitement and a whole amount of worry, he confirms the second part.

‘’It is.’’

 


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> I cannot stress enough how sorry i am for my long absence bt it has been hell for me this past month. truly truly truly sorry  
> Anyways, here is an update. enjoy :D

_''We're leaving together,_  
_But still it's farewell._  
_And maybe we'll come back_  
_To earth, who can tell?_  
_I guess there is no one to blame_  
_We're leaving ground (leaving ground)_  
_Will things ever be the same again?_  
  
_It's the final countdown.''_

_-Europe, the final countdown_

 

 

To say the car ride over is awkward would be the biggest understatement of the century.

After Louis had spilled his guts out, he was still too weak to get out of bed and so Harry had let him go back to sleep and only woke him up for lunch. Things were weird between them; like Louis was afraid he'd step on Harry's toes and vice versa. But Harry kept to his word and stayed with him every second, offered to draw him a bath and carried him to the bathroom before closing the door quietly behind him, warm water all ready.

There was already a pair of boxers and a white cotton shirt by the sink when he was done but that didn’t stop Harry from going the extra mile.

As soon as Louis had emerged, legs shaky and weak, Harry carried him back to bed, without asking or being asked. Louis was about to say thank you when Harry put him down on the edge of the bed then reached out for a cotton swab and a brown bottle. Next thing Louis knows, Harry started dabbing at Louis’ scratch marks, starting with his arms.

Louis just stared at him, speechless while Harry carried on, quiet on his part too, unable to hold Louis’ eyes from how focused he was.

And Louis couldn’t help but stare, couldn’t help but observe this beautiful angel being so attentive to him, dedicated and keen on taking care of every part of him.

‘’Can I help tuck you in now?’’ He was pulled out his thoughts by Harry’s voice rather than the strong smell of antiseptic cream all over his arms, thighs and even his neck and face.

‘’Yes, please,’’ Louis replied meekly.

Harry first helped dress him up in warm, soft clothes before announcing that he’s going to leave to prepare dinner. It was probably one of the quietest moments they’ve ever had.

Louis got a little lost in his head waiting for him, that it was a while before he registered someone cuddling up to him. He merely closed his eyes and burrowed into the boy who came back for him, with a warm dinner waiting on the bedside table.

Dinner was also a quiet affair but Harry stayed close, rubbing up Louis’ arm gently when he seemed distant or about to get lost in his head.

It didn't even matter when night time came and Louis timidly asked if Harry could wait till he fell asleep because he didn't want to fall asleep alone. It meant that Harry got to watch him tuck in and close his eyes until they stopped fluttering before he turned off the lights and went to sleep in his room.

But it was alright, even though Harry didn't want to leave him at all as he knew this dependency was not healthy. So he withdrew for the night and tried his hardest to fall asleep. After lots of tossing and turning, he eventually did.

Now, come morning, in the car ride heading towards Syco's headquarters, one can easily cut the air with a stale knife as the ever growing tension continues to persist. Harry and Zayn are glaring from where they're sat from across each other. Louis cannot help but dart his eyes between the both of them from where he is tucked under Harry's arm around his shoulders. Niall is tucked into him, arms around Louis' narrow waist, just glad to be back under Louis' big brother warmth. Harry doesn't want to be wary of him but he cannot help it because Louis is not okay and being up in his space is not really what Niall should aim for.

As for Liam, he is sat next to Zayn and like Louis, his eyes are darting between the two glaring boys, like he's waiting for the moment lightening will strike.

No one talks after Niall had cuddled into Louis the moment he got into the car and said he'd missed him and was so worried about him, to which Louis assured him and the boys that he was perfectly fine. Only Niall decided to accept the lie but Liam's silence and Zayn's stoic and cold eyes say that they are above Louis' bullshit.

It's a relief when the car finally arrives to its destination. Harry and Zayn are the last to leave the car, like they're each daring the other to make a move.

''Harry?'' Louis calls from outside the car, breaking whatever was brewing between Harry and Zayn.

''Coming, Lou.'' Harry replies, eyes not leaving Zayn's.

Zayn's jaws tick and just when Harry moves, Zayn grips below his elbow and pulls him a bit closer, so their faces are inches away.

''I'm going to get to the bottom of this very soon and once I do, I suggest you don't stand in the way, alright, mate?'' his voice is low and calm but Harry feels the sharp edge of his cool demeanor and he'll be damned if he let himself falter.

''Only Louis will let that happen, mate or have you forgotten he has a mind of his own?'' Harry quirks an eye brow at him.

''I think it’s you who has forgotten, Harry.'' Zayn's grip tightens. ''I can't believe you're taking advantage of him, making him need you and want you, all because you can't get a grip over your own fucking feelings. God, you are so…''

''Harry!'' Louis' voice startles them both and when they look up, they see him peering into the car, looking at the both of them with furrowed brows.

Harry breaks out of Zayn's hold, eyes unflinching and leaves the car with Louis in tow.

Louis is looking at him all confused and worried but Harry cannot deal with that right now, not when Zayn's words are making him furious with himself.

The truth of the matter is, he's furious because Zayn might possibly be right and if he looks at the whole situation from an outsider's perspective, he can see where Zayn is coming from and rather than talking to him nicely and telling him the truth, his aggressive attitude towards Zayn's fury merely fueled the lad's opinion on the whole matter. Honestly, Harry feels like he'd entrapped himself and therefore is entirely at fault for the coldness he's created with his fellow band mate.

He and Louis arrive at the lifts where the boys are waiting for them and as they step in and the doors close upon Zayn finally joining them, Harry can only hope that this day would not end in more disaster.

Sitting in the big conference room with floor-to-ceiling windows and a long modern table separating them from the representatives of Simon's corporation, Harry's attention is finally diverted from Zayn's words when he feels Louis pull his hand under the table, towards his lap. He feels a tight squeeze from where Louis intertwines their fingers and when he looks to his side, he sees that Louis is more than properly nervous.

It occurs to him now, that with the tumultuous circumstances the past couple of days have been on Louis, that maybe he shouldn't be here. Harry would rather have him resting at home, eating a three course meal all at once so that his pale complexion would disappear and his laugh lines will come out again.

He recalls how just this morning, he’d decided to simply not say anything when Louis had emerged from the bathroom after brushing his teeth with slight make-up on his face and Harry knew that Louis had done what he needed to do in order to appear here today with zero scratches on his face, like he’s perfectly normal, like he didn’t have a shitty week.

Harry wants to take him home.

''Lou,'' he whispers as he drags his chair closer, until their thighs are touching.

''I'm really nervous.'' Louis whispers back.

''Why? I'm right here.'' Harry offers a smile, hopes to appease Louis with it. He squeezes his hand too, for good measure.

''What if Simon doesn't show up? This will all be for nothing then.''

Harry's heard this already when they were having breakfast this morning, Louis all dressed up in a brightly colored baby blue sweater but he was silent and withdrawn, poking at his sunny side up and bacon and second guessing everything. Harry can only begin to grasp what a huge step this is for Louis, what great efforts he's exuding to be brave enough to finally show a part of himself that is not what the masses see, ready to seek a truth that might not be all that bright but he hopes for it anyways, hoping, just hoping, he'll find what he needs to redeem himself.

''It won't be. It's out first ever movie; he'll definitely be here.'' Harry assures him.

''You don't know that, he's a very busy man, Simon is.''

Just when Harry is about to reply, Simon and a bunch of people in suits enter the room. Harry can actually feel Louis exuding a sigh of relief upon their mentor's entrance.

Simon, however, is busy on his cell phone and he waves his hand at them in lieu of a greeting then raises a finger, signaling that they give him a moment. All the boys nod at him to take his time, in which Simon walks to a far corner of the room and stares out at the view, his phone conversation going uninterrupted.

The people who have entered with him do not wait for the man of the hour to sit down. They greet the boys cheerfully, offering coffee and tea left and right, while the shuffling of papers and rustling of clothes occupy the silence.

With all the niceties put aside, Claire, one of their head P.R. agents, folds her hands neatly and smiles.

''First of all, how was Ghana lads? Was it an insightful trip to you all? Any inconveniences?'' she asks.

''No, it was quite an eye-opener.'' Liam answers from next to him, always one to initiate a conversation. It's obvious that they are trying to buy time until Simon is sat with them and Harry has no problem having a pleasant chit chat, so long as Louis is relaxed next to him.

Speaking of Louis, his eyes are on Simon and he's not even being cautious about it. Harry squeezes his hand and offers another smile, to which this time, Louis returns.

''Yeah, poor kids, I wish we could have done more for them.'' Niall says from where he's sat next to Louis.

''Well, actually, the reason why I’ve brought it up is because of this,'' Claire opens a manila folder and out pours more than a dozen letters. ''They're for you, Louis.''

Louis' eyes snap back to her. ‘’Excuse me?’’

‘’Yeah, the kids you’ve met there have all sent you letters of thanks for the books you’ve sent.’’ Claire says with a soft, proud smile.

Harry cannot help but mirror it. There are a lot of things that he and the boys do individually that they don’t see should be a part of the public eye, simply because it shouldn’t have to be that way. If you’re doing charity for the sake of fame and glory, than you’re not in it for the right reasons and the boys have never wanted to help people in order to sell newspapers or garner more attention for their music. They’ve been brought up proper, by loving parents and an even lovelier environment and they know what it’s like to start from nothing. Louis for one takes this to heart more than any of them. He hates it when he shows good to others only for his charitable gesture to come off as a means to garner fans or sell records. The truth of the matter is; Louis’ just too kind for his own good and for him to come off as false or vain is unacceptable. Harry thanks God that the fans see through the bullshit of the tabloids and the boys have always asked their PR team to make sure to try and keep that balance.

‘’Wow,’’ Louis says quietly. His hands move and he picks at the letters, reading the names of the senders.

‘’It would be great, Louis if we have the Daily Mail or the Sun publish an article about this,’’ Mark, a publicist and a man of great experience in show business remarks. ‘’It would make great promo for the movie during Box Office week and….’’

‘’No, thank you.’’ Louis declines politely, as he had declined many a time when it came to something nice he did for the less fortunate. ‘’I’d like to read them to myself, please.’’

‘’No, I don’t mean publish the letters, I meant…’’ Mark flusters out.

‘’No, I know what you mean,’’ Louis interrupts kindly. ‘’But I don’t think we should use these as means for promo in any way, Sir. These letters mean more than that and I surely did not send those books to them simply to get an article written about it. I wanted to send those books because they asked and I wanted to oblige. It’s really that simple and I would like it if we could keep it that way, yes?’’

Mark sighs but nonetheless nods. After all, this isn’t the first time something like this has happened and knowing Louis, Harry is sure it won’t be the last.

 

Simon finally finishes his phone conversation and takes a seat between Claire and Mark.

‘’Alright, lads. Let’s begin, shall we?’’

 

It’s more than an hour’s meeting, wrapping up every loose string about the movie premiere in Leicester square, talking about attendees and interviews and a million other thing. Harry keeps his hand pressed against Louis’ palm and it seems to ease the lad until he’s almost back to his old self, excited and exuberant about tomorrow’s event.

 

It goes downhill after.

The meeting wraps up and the suits all stand and that’s when Louis starts.

‘’Uncle Si?’’

‘’Yes, lad?’’ Simon says as he stares at his shiny iPhone, standing up and ready to leave.

‘’Can we talk for a minute, before you leave, please?’’ Louis says as calmly as he possibly can. All the boys freeze by the door whereas the suits are already on phones and leaving with their files and folders clutched in their hands.

Simon looks up from his phone and looks at Louis with a frown.

‘’Is this urgent? And if so, why didn’t you say anything during the meeting?’’

‘’It’s not about the movie, so. It’s kinda personal.’’ Louis swallows after his answer.

Simon stares hard at him.

‘’Alright,’’ he says before he sits down. Louis looks at Harry here and he knows the boys will hate him for this but he knows what Louis is asking of him.

‘’Lads, after you.’’ He says as he approaches the door and opens it for the other three.

Liam, Niall and Zayn look confused as they stare at the back of Louis’ head then at Harry’s face.

‘’What’s going on?’’ Liam whispers by the door, the other two behind him.

‘’I don’t know.’’ Harry answers and honestly, he truly doesn’t know what to expect from Simon’s end once Louis reveals it all. He just knows he has to be supportive of Louis and be by his side.

Liam nods then steps out followed by a confused Niall then a cold Zayn.

‘’I’m assuming you’re staying?’’ Zayn asks bitterly and Harry knows this will never end. He knows he owes the boys answers that Louis owes them even more. He cannot help but sigh.

‘’I have to. Someone has to. Please understand that.’’ Harry says, eyes desperate for Zayn to understand.

Zayn just shakes his head at him. ‘’You’re a massive prick even if you're a loyal one at that.’’ He says before he shuts the door to Harry’s face. Harry knows he deserves it.

‘’You too Harry?’’ Simon asks when the Cheshire lad finally takes his seat by Louis’ side.

‘’I’m just here for support.’’ He says before he takes a deep breath and Louis’ hand in his.

 

It really goes downhill from there. If Harry thought he was prepared before, he is quite sure now that he has over underestimated this entire situation. It starts by Louis apologizing and Simon still texting someone on his phone, someone he is sure is quiet important otherwise he wouldn't be very wary of Louis. They have been told time and time and again how fond of them Simon is, how he always will make time for them if they need him, so it must be urgent for him to not be paying full attention to Louis.

''I'm really sorry, sir for taking up your time. I'm sure you've got other matters to attend to.'' Louis starts. He puts Harry's hand on his leg and makes sure Harry's fingers are spread on the meaty flesh of his thigh before withdrawing his hands and folding his fingers on the table.

''I do so please get to it,'' Simon answers, not coldly but merely with his usual blunt honesty.

''It's about my past,'' Louis says with no preamble.

Simon's eyes finally snap up, still and sharp. His hand has gone slack on his phone. Harry holds his breath.

''Excuse me?''

''I mean, not exactly my past but…''

''You told me that I shouldn't worry about it, remember?'' Simon interrupts. ''So why on earth are you bringing it up now?''

''Well…'' Louis hesitates. Usually, Louis is very good at keeping up with Simon's forwardness and bluntness but today, Harry cannot help but notice his timid body language, his cautiousness.

He squeezes Louis' thigh and hopes it's a boost of confidence.

''Are you trying to find your dead mother? Is she suddenly alive and only now I hear of it? Or is this about your dad and you're trying to reach out to the man in jail? Because I'm sure you understand that you have a family now, a better one. And looking for another is looking for trouble.'' Simon persists, phone completely on the side now and facing Louis straight ahead.

''No, Uncle Si, that's not it at all, I…'' Louis stops himself and shuts his eyes tight, heels of his palms coming up to press on them. His breathing has gone unsteady too.

''Lou…'' Harry says gently, hand leaving his thigh to touch Louis' rib, rubbing gently. Again, he cannot help but think of how much he needs to take Louis home.

''Then what on earth is it?'' Simon says through gritted teeth. ''Christ, lad, do you want to give me a heart attack? What on earth is going on with you?''

''It's my brother, okay!'' Louis' head snaps up, hands landing heavily on the wooden table.

Simon stares at his pale face, with a disbelieving expression. Harry understands the feeling.

''What?''

''I had a brother, have a brother,'' he amends and it makes Harry's heart crack. ''And he's out there, missing or worse and I'm sorry I didn't tell you this before but it was too much for me to handle back then, like, I was fifteen when we got separated and I'd jumped from one foster care to another, trying literally anything to find him.''

Simon sits back on his chair, that disbelieving look on his face stuck in his features.

''Is he serious?''

It takes a moment for Harry to realize he is being addressed.

''Yes,'' he croaks out then clears his voice. ''It's all true.''

''Based on what evidence?''

Harry's heart drops at the underlying meaning in Simon's query.

''Louis would not lie to me or you, Uncle Si.'' Harry says with steel in his voice.

''That is not what I meant, lad but what I mean is,'' Simon then turns to Louis. ''What evidence do you have that he is missing or worse at all?''

Louis is paused by the question, looking back with a confused expression.

''I don't...I don't have any. I just know that he is out there, somewhere and it's been six years and I've never stopped wanting to find him.''

''You've waited this long to tell me.'' Simon states. ''Why?''

''I think,'' Louis starts. ''I think I was scared you would refuse to help me.''

Once again, Simon just looks at him only this time, his expression is unreadable. Harry has this awful feeling in the pit of his stomach, churning at the thought that Simon might abandon Louis, leave him in the conference room and leave the whole thing be.

He knows it's not fair burdening Simon with the matter but who else can they turn to? Who else can they trust?

''How could you possibly think that?'' Simon sighs before he massages his temple, eyes contemplating. ''This is just big, Louis and you know I hate being unprepared or jumped at. It unhinges me.''

If it was anybody else, Simon would never say that, would never put himself out there. He rarely does it with them even and Harry knows it. Now he feels even worse about pushing Louis to do this.

''I know and I'm sorry and I'm not going to bring this up ever again if you want. I just need you to recommend me someone to track him down and you can wash your hands from this, I promise.'' Louis assures him hurriedly.

Simon looks at Louis long and hard, and Louis takes it, bears himself raw in front of him, with all his desperation overflowing from his pores. Harry wishes he could plug them up with something better, something akin to strength.

''I know a man,'' Simon says and Louis heaves a sigh a relief, he almost staggers in his seat. ''He'll be discreet, professional and he deals with this sort of thing. But you have to promise me, Louis.'' Simon says sternly as he interrupts Louis' series of thanks and gratitude.

''You have to promise me that whatever you find, you keep to yourself and if you can't get on with it any further, just don't.'' he pauses here, turning more serious by the second. ''I've seen many pop stars fall to the might of drugs and alcohol and have lost their sense of self and purpose when faced with truths. You cannot let yourself be one of them, do you understand?''

''I'll do my best, sir.'' Louis nods.

''And for God's sake, be more careful from now on. If the public finds out, they can hurt you and I firmly believe that you have been hurt enough and I will not tolerate more of it. Alright?''

''Yes, of course, Simon, anything you want.'' Louis tears up, too grateful for words.

''Right, go wash your face, lad. You don't look proper for the hordes of cameras out there. Go.'' Simon instructs gently.

''Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.'' Louis says wetly before he excuses himself and leaves.

''Thank you, uncle Si.'' Harry is about to follow but then Simon stops him.

''Was this your idea?''

Harry thuds back to his seat and faces Simon. He should have seen this coming.

''He's wanted it for so long.'' He says. ''More than that, he needs it. It took him going to hell and coming back again to simply be able to ask me to help him.''

Simon looks at Harry with piercing eyes and Harry hopes to God he doesn't ask him what he means, what the last couple of days were like.

''I should have known that you of all people would be the one to go the ends of the world for him. Honestly, I never doubted it.'' Simon merely says as he pulls out his expensive looking, authentic leather wallet from his pocket. ''I will never know what it's like to be an orphan and heavens know I would not wish it on anyone, let alone a on lad like Louis.''

After sifting through his wallet pockets, he pulls out a sturdy looking business card and presents it to Harry. ''But whatever he finds, you have to promise me that you will bear every second of it with him, do you understand? If he wishes to go no further, then you are not to push it. If he wishes to edge over the brim, you will fall right there with him, is that clear?''

Harry swallows. He understands what Simon is saying somewhat, understands that coming to him for help was a joint agreement and therefore he ought to bear the brunt of it with Louis is what Simon is saying. Harry only hopes he can be up to the task.

''Clear,'' he takes the card and hopes to he does Louis no wrong.


	44. Chapter 44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is unedited and may also seem like a filler but as you know me, fillers are usually preludes to the big thing so stay tuned and enjoy!

_''When the night has come_  
_And the land is dark_  
_And the moon is the only light we'll see_  
_No I won't be afraid, no I won't be afraid_  
_Just as long as you stand, stand by me''_

_-Ben E. King, Stand by me_

 

 

  
 

 

Management has a car ready for all five of them and after Louis and Harry's meeting with Simon wrapped up, they join the other three in the car.

It's as silent as the grave, and Harry doesn't bother looking up at Zayn to know that the lad is still pissed at him. Louis is in his own world, biting at his nails while his eyes are fixed on the window, staring into space.

Harry had told him on the way down to the car that Simon had given him a contact number and all Louis could do was take a deep breath and nod. He's been quiet since then and Harry is positive that it's because he's overwhelmed. Now though, with one leg bouncing up and down and the other pressed against his chest, Harry cannot help but worry. Louis’ teeth are snapping at his nails and he looks nervous, unwinding in a dreadful sort of way. Harry's arm around his shoulder is even shaking a bit.

Harry looks around, wants to make sure that the boys haven't noticed Louis' strange behavior but he should've known better. He should've known how much the boys worry about Louis too and therefore he shouldn't have been surprised when he found three pairs of eyes on the lad.

He looks back now and understands all too well why their eyes are so intense. When Louis had washed his face after leaving the conference room, he surely didn't account for the make-up to disappear and now, his scratch marks are out there, visible across his cheekbones and under his eyes, a dull red color, a mark of something innocent long gone.

''Lou…''

It's not Harry that spoke nor was it Zayn and yet, Louis doesn't move or give any notice, still trembling like a leaf next to Harry and almost biting his nails to their roots.

''Lou,'' Liam moves closer from where he's sat across from Louis and gently, he puts his hand on Louis' knee where his leg is jiggling.

Louis startles, pulling his leg up to his chest, a surprised gasp escaping his lips. He covers his mouth like he didn't mean to let it out, just as his eyes bug out and his free arm tightens around his middle when he looks at Liam.

''You okay, Lou?'' Liam asks gently. ''You seem really nervous.''

Louis lets out a sharp breath as he lowers his hand to his middle. He’s never looked smaller, keener to let the world swallow him up. His eyes are wide and overwhelmed, blue eyes seeking comfort and a trusting refuge but hesitating.

‘’You can talk to us, Lou. You know that right?’’ Liam continues.

Louis’ keeps staring at him until he visibly starts calming down, something about Liam’s steady gaze must be settling for him, releasing tension in some way.

''I know I've been holding out on you, on all of you.'' Louis starts, voice a bit too controlled. ''And I know it's my fault that you've been taking it out on Harry instead of me but please understand that I didn’t ask for any of this. I wish I could be normal like all of you, I wish it every day.’’

Liam sits back, brow furrowed. Niall has a look of disbelief on his face and Zayn, well, Zayn looks understanding.

‘’How could you think that?’’ Liam asks quietly. ‘’How could you even say that, Louis?’’

‘’Liam, you know it’s true.’’ Louis replies just as quietly.

‘’That’s... Louis, at this point, none of us are normal. For crying out loud, we have a movie premiere tomorrow, how unreal is that?’’ Liam, and even Louis, cannot help but chuckle. ‘’We know you’ve had it hard, okay, harder than the rest of us and some of us are better equipped to be there for you the way a friend should than others and sometimes even that is not all perfect and maybe that’s what we’ve been so upset about.’’ The way his eyes subtly shifted from Harry to Zayn goes unnoticed. ‘’We hate that we cannot be there for you the way you have always been there for us, and I know it’s different, I know our problems do not compare but it doesn’t mean it isn’t a massive blow to realize, you know. We love you and we do not wish you to change a single part of you whatsoever. If ever, we wish we could take away anything that has ever hurt you. That’s all, Lou.’’

Louis looks at him in a way the word ‘grateful’ cannot compare and Harry sort of understands now. They’re not jealous that he gets to know things about Louis more than them but that all of them collectively do not know how to handle Louis’ pain and that each and every one of them is trying to take it as it comes.

‘’Have I ever told you how good of a friend you are, Lima Bean?’’ Louis says, a ghost of a smile on his face.

As expected, Niall bursts out loud in laughter and even Zayn’s marble face breaks into a helpless smile. Liam chuckles and merely shrugs. Considering the events leading up to this moment, Harry cannot help but think all will be okay soon.

‘’You know you’re not getting away with this,’’ Zayn says lightly and well, there goes Harry’s hopes.

Louis looks at Zayn and shrugs. ‘’I know. Had to try, though.’’

‘’Well, anything we can do to help?’’ Niall asks.

Louis sighs and rests his head on Harry’s shoulder. Harry cannot help but tighten his arm around his shoulder at that.

‘’I don’t know. I….’’ Louis pauses, like he’s thinking about taking another leap of faith. Harry waits along with the boys.

Eventually, Louis looks back out the window, eyes far away.

‘’You all know about my brother, don’t you?’’ he asks quietly.

Louis doesn’t look at the boys to gauge their reaction but Harry does and he can see their focus shift into gear.

‘’Yes,’’ they all say.

Louis nods, eyes unwavering, not giving anything away.

‘’You’re upset that we know,’’ Liam points out.

Louis shrugs. ‘’Can’t help it now. I just wish I had told you about it in my own way, over a cup of tea or something. Not like…’’ Louis sighs. ‘’Doesn’t matter now.’’

‘’I’m sorry, Lou.’’ Harry cannot help but whisper to him, guilt lodged in his throat.

Louis merely pecks his bicep from where his arm is still slung around his shoulder. _It’s okay,_ is what it means.

‘’Is this about him then? Your brother?’’ Zayn asks carefully.

Louis nods, eyes still stuck on the window. ‘’I asked Simon to help me find him. About time too. God knows I’ve waited long enough.’’

The air in the car changes drastically. Niall and Zayn exchange looks. Liam’s eyes stay on Louis, a bit shocked.

‘’Do you think that’s the right thing to do?’’ Zayn asks before Liam interrupts him half-way through, saying; ‘’Zayn, no.’’

‘’I don’t know.’’ Louis answers and finally looks back at the three of them before his eyes land on Zayn. ‘’What would you have me do?’’

‘’Lou, I don’t mean to sound harsh, but it’s been years. What if you don’t like what you find, hm? What if…what you find doesn’t meet your expectations?’’ Zayn lets his words stew before he continues and Harry’s gut clenches in dreadful anticipation. ‘’What if you don’t find him at all?’’

‘’Zayn…’’ Harry speaks up finally, unable to be silent any longer. Ever since this conversation has started and he’s wanted to answer every inquiry on Louis’ behalf, as caveman as that sounds but he held back because it wasn’t right to do that, to take away Louis’ right at letting them in or not. Now, though, now he talks and he knows it’s because Zayn has voiced out his own fears, thoughts that he himself has kept silent and hates that Zayn just blurted them out there for Louis to hear.

He can feel Louis recoil to himself under his arm; can feel him tremble a bit. He looks at him and sees Louis’ tired blue eyes on Zayn, not hurt but more like resigned.

‘’At least I’ll know.’’ Louis says. ‘’Even if he’s disappeared into thin air or doesn’t want me anymore, I’ll know that at least I’ve tried. Whatever it is, at least I’ll finally have some answers.’’ He looks back out the window and breaths out. ‘’Maybe I’ll even have some peace.’’

The conversation ends there and Harry is thankful for it. He can practically see the gears in their heads moving around and he knows that even if they don’t understand all of what Louis wants out of this, they know what it’s like for him when he is taunted by his own wars, what it’s like when his demons attack. Out of everything they understood; Harry is sure that giving Louis peace was the one thing they took to heart and the rest, well, doesn’t compare so much.

 

They each hug Louis when they finally arrive at the complex and then hug Harry in turn.

‘’I’m still mad at you,’’ Zayn whispers to him during the hug but when he pulls back he’s smirking. Harry takes it in stride.

‘’Me too,’’ he says with a light punch to his shoulder.

They part ways after that with Harry following Louis into the house. Louis goes straight to the kitchen and Harry notices him just standing by the kitchen sink, just leaning on the counter.

He knows better now to just leave him be and not crowd him, so he goes to his room instead and changes into comfy sweats and a ratty old shirt before coming back downstairs.

By then, a kettle is brewing and two mugs are waiting on the counter and Louis is still standing there, eyes far away.

‘’You tired?’’ Harry asks quietly, not wanting to startle him.

‘’Not really,’’ Louis doesn’t say more, just prepares their tea in silence. Harry takes a seat and waits until Louis sets their mugs on the kitchen table and they both take a tentative sip.

‘’Harry?’’

‘’Yes?’’

Louis looks at him hesitantly at first before gearing up.

‘’Can you call that number now?’’

 

At night, Louis doesn’t ask for Harry to sit by his bedside like the day before, to wait for him to fall asleep and Harry wishes that he had because he honestly cannot even close his eyes.

He wishes he had something to do, just literally anything would be better than staring at the ceiling of his room, waiting for dawn to break. Instead, here he is, stuck with his own thoughts.

The call he made was quite professional, with him giving Louis’ name and number and setting an appointment of when to meet and nothing else.

Louis also didn’t say much, not even during dinner or after when Harry asked if he needed help applying new bandages on his bad scars and antiseptic on the healing ones. Louis declined and went straight to bed.

He’s always curious about what’s going on in Louis’ mind, and tonight is no different.

 

The next day starts bright and early, with handlers and people filling up their house, suits and hair products scattered around, management people telling them their agenda and what’s in store and how to smile, wave and behave on the red carpet.

Louis is in his element and Harry tries his best not to worry too much about him when Louis is obviously dealing.

Lou had to work some extra magic with Louis to hide the scars –he got it in a friendly wrestling with the boys, they say as an excuse- and other than that, everything was going in time for the show.

The five boys all ride in one big limo, all excited and hyper, events of the past couple of days completely forgotten.

It gets louder and louder the nearer they get to Leicester square and when they finally leave the car to the greetings of thousands of their fans, they go about it like they were made for it, handling it with grace, humility and utter pride for their fans.

 

It all goes well. It really does. They wave at their fans and they take photos in front of the cameras. They do interviews and shout outs. They even meet some of their idols who they were surprised to see in attendance. 

Louis looks lost, jumping from one person to another, hanging on to people and making silly conversations because his family hasn't arrived yet. Harry wants to reach out to him but Louis is never steady, never in one place and it reminds him of when they were all shooting scenes with their families for the movie, changing one scene after the other. He had a great time when he was in Cheshire for it, visiting his old work place at the bakery, walking around in the fields and mowing his mom’s backyard garden. It had made him wonder at the time if Louis had just as much fun or if his smiles on camera were all just pretend and make-do.

It’s when their families arrive that Harry worries a bit. He gets too focused hugging his mom and Gemma, greeting the family members of the other boys that he forgets to worry about Louis. It's only after he's hugged all the moms and dads that he realizes how Louis is nowhere to be found or that Louis’ family are the last to appear. 

Jay and Mark, they barely have any footage in the movie and even the cut scenes were cut for a reason. Harry remembers that time when Louis had gone home to Doncaster. He’d stayed at a hotel and met up with his family with a crew. Most of Louis’ scenes were of places he’d worked in, like ToysRUs and Keepmoat stadium, even the local theatre where he’d worked as a janitor.

Scenes with his ''family'' were, as Louis had described it, ‘quite stinted’. The girls he fetched from school to buy sweets with at the local candy shop were girls he never got to spend time with, let alone stay that much in touch with. Even Mark, who is his current father figure, was never really there during Louis’ dark times, at least not the way Jay was.

It’s why during their final meetings, when they were choosing what scenes with their families they ought to pick for their movie, they favored scenes like that of Zayn’s phone call with his mom and Liam’s mom crying or Niall's mom talking with Anne on the back of a carriage in New York city, before their Madison Square garden performance. Jay only had a scene or two were she barely said anything, probably just for half a minute and anything else went to the cut folder, only to appear months after the hype behind the movie calms down.

At first Harry thought the scenes were just not good enough due to the lack of chemistry between Louis and his adoptive family but apparently Louis was not comfortable with putting them in the spotlight the way the others were okay with theirs.

‘’They’re already doing me a huge favor,’’ he’d explained one night, after they’d gotten friendly again. ‘’No need to plaster their faces on posters where they don’t want to be, you know. I'm barely a part of their family, just as I'm barely a part of their lives. It's not right of me to demand too much, just for a movie no less.’’

Harry didn't really agree with all that as he'd always hated Louis alienating himself. Now though, when Jay and Mark arrive and he finally sees Louis properly, he cannot help but be curious.

He ignores Gemma when he sees Louis hug his adoptive mom and dad, talking to them like he’s been on the phone with them for hours every day. Jay takes it all in stride but Mark seems to struggle, not sure how to act as a proper father figure to a boy who only stayed in their house for less than three months before he demanded they let him go.

Still, Harry cannot help but admire them for graciously being there for Louis in the way he’d have wanted them to and for being here today of all days. It amazes him now, more than usual, how someone like Louis has made it out alive and is now in a movie premiere documenting the life of the biggest band in the world.

Harry doesn’t mean to get swell-headed, he doesn’t think that way, but he admires Louis and how the road to get where he is could not have been as easy as his. No, Louis struggled so much harder and now he is here and that’s why, as cliché as it is, Harry cannot help but believe there has to be a good ending for him, no matter how that comes about.

 

The day is full of stuff to do, people to see, a movie to watch. Half-way through the screening, Harry sees Louis step out of the cinema hall to take a call and misses at least half an hour of the movie. Harry cannot exactly see his facial expressions when he comes back and there is no time to ask so he hopes he has nothing to worry about.

After the movie premiere, they leave for the after party and talk with old industry friends, exchange phone numbers with new ones. Oh and selfies, loads of selfies.

They don’t stay way past midnight as they have loads of interviews the following day, starting with an early breakfast one with Nick Grimshaw, so they bid their families farewell and take their rides home separately.

When Harry arrives home though, Louis is already there and with someone else.

‘’Lou?’’ Harry calls out, still in his premiere suit and shoes, striding straight to the kitchen.

When he steps inside, he sees a man of a well-built form, wisps of grey strands by his hairline and narrow brown eyes sitting at the kitchen table. He looks to be in his mid-thirties but the charcoal grey suit he’s wearing makes him look older. When he looks at Harry, his face remains stoic and neutral.

‘’Haz, hey, um, had fun?’’ Louis asks from where he’s sitting adjacent to the man, looking up at him too.

‘’Yeah, I did. Hi, I’m Harry.’’ Harry offers his hand, and the man shakes it.

‘’I know who you are. I’m Gary, the man you called yesterday.’’

‘’Oh,’’

Everything falls into place then.

‘’Yeah, your voice sounds familiar,’’ Harry adds for lack of anything else to say.

‘’I suppose.’’

‘’Would you like to get comfortable before you join us?’’ Louis asks after an awkward silence and there is something in his tone that says he wants Harry to be there with him and not because he’s insecure around Gary but because he doesn’t want to talk about this alone.

Harry nods immediately.

‘’I’ll just take a shower and be right back. Excuse me,’’ he says to Gary before hurrying up to his room.

He showers methodically and changes into comfy clothes before drying his hair off and heading back downstairs. He tells himself that he’d finished in less than 5 minutes not because he was worried about leaving Louis alone with a stranger but because he isn’t one to dawdle or waste time. He doesn’t know who he’s trying to fool.

‘’Um,’’ he also doesn’t know why he’s being all twitchy in his own kitchen but there he is.

‘’Haz, here, sit with me,’’ Louis pulls a chair for him so that now he’s sitting between Harry and Gary.

When Harry takes his seat he sees that the old photo of Louis and Leo is on the table next to Louis’ wallet and the man’s IPhone, a notepad and a biro are on the table between the man’s palms.

‘’So, um, Gary here was just finishing up signing an NDA,’’ Louis says.

‘’That’s great.’’ Harry cannot help but say before he looks up at Gary apologetically. ‘’I’m sure you know we mean no offense. I mean, you wouldn’t be here if we didn’t trust you and Simon…’’

‘’That’s alright.’’ Gary says with a wry smile. ‘’Discretion is in my profession. It’s part of the job.’’

‘’Right,’’ Harry agrees.

‘’So, what more can you tell me about your brother, Mr. Tomlinson?’’ Gary asks, picking up his biro and tilting the notepad towards him.

‘’Just Louis, please.’’ Louis says in a way that tells Harry he’s already said this before.

Harry tries to stay attentive but he’s exhausted and nothing that Louis’ saying is new. In fact, Louis is being quite tactful and Gary seems to be able to get a good read on all the things Louis’ not saying, which Harry appreciates. Honestly, it pained Harry hearing about Louis’ sufferings once; he doesn’t mind not hearing it again.

But there are some things that are new, depending on Gary’s questions. Most of the time, Harry finds himself confused when the man asks for the most absurd or seemingly useless details but then Harry catches up to the fact that the man is not asking for details so much as asking for names of places, buildings, even the name of a shop or a street.

He’s asking about Louis’ whereabouts and if Harry didn’t understand at first, he understands plenty now. This man is a true professional.

‘’And your mother?’’ Gary asks. He doesn’t seem tired with Louis’ carefully crafted answers or stilted ones, constantly maintaining eye contact even when Louis falters. He doesn’t seem intimidating but more or less keen on the world’s affairs or something, like he’d seen a thing or two.

‘’Um,’’ Louis glances at Harry there, worry in his eyes.

‘’You said she’s dead.’’ Gary points out.

Louis keeps looking at Harry as he answers, ‘’When I asked my d-dad about her, about why she’d walked away and had been gone for long, he told me that she died.’’

‘’He told you that.’’ Gary says.

‘’Yes,’’ Louis replies, eyes still on Harry. ‘’By the time I turned fifteen, she’d been gone close to six months. I think.’’

‘’But you don’t really know if she’s dead though.’’

‘’Yes,’’

Harry’s breath gets stuck in his throat and not just from the sheer honestly in Louis’ voice but his eyes too, pleading for Harry not to over react about this.

Harry is doing his best to stay calm but all he can think of is the fact that if Simon finds out, he’s going to fucking flip.

One dead parent and the other in prison serving a life sentence was bad enough but the possibility of two living parents out there, one a monster and one who had abandoned her children is not something that can stop Harry’s blood from boiling.

‘’I see,’’ Harry hears the sound of a pen scribbling on paper and only then he cuts his eye contact with Louis. Instead, he reaches out and squeezes his hand on the table, assuring him that its alright, that he’s still here.

Louis squeezes back and Harry knows he’s grateful.

Harry cannot help but wonder that night, after Gary leaves and says he’ll contact them soon with as much answers as he can find, if what he knows about Louis so far is really all there is. But then he realizes that the fact that they’ve hired someone to look for answers for them means that he’s far from having figured it all out, simply because Louis hasn’t either.

But Louis hugs him that night and cuddles up to him on the couch in silent gratitude and they fall asleep that way, holding unto each other’s strength and silence assurances.


	45. Chapter 45

_''Oh, it's a beautiful thing_  
_Don't think I can keep it all in_  
_I just gotta let you know_  
_What it is that won't let me go_  
  
_It's your love_  
_It just does somethin' to me_  
_It sends a shock right through me_  
_I can't get enough_  
_And if you wonder_  
_About the spell I'm under_  
_It's your love''_

_Joe O'meara, It's your love_

 

 

 

Nothing new in terms of Louis’ past comes up the following two weeks. Not to mention how insane those two weeks are, from their early rise interview with Nick Grimshaw, which neither Louis nor Niall attended because they were busy doing another interview, to their junkets with famous movie magazines in London and the entirety of the UK, flying in just to interview them about their non-existent acting skills. (Not like they were acting in the first place but still). The press junkets for the movie, their movie, have just been utterly crazy.

After that, they fly to the U.S. for more promo of their movie. Louis had been reluctant to leave so soon, worried that Gary might come up with something, which worried Harry too. He now knows of Louis’ history of dropping everything when any news of Leo’s whereabouts come about and he can only hope their management team won’t be too harsh on Louis if they notice this repetitive tendency of his.

Inevitably, they do pack up and land in L.A. to a mob of crazy paps in the airport. It visibly upsets Zayn, who gets into a verbal fight with one of them, the pap just pushing his buttons a bit further than usual. Thank goodness there were fans too, who immediately came to his defense and showed who was truly at fault and how unprofessional the pap was.

It’s not a good start but the show goes on. If the boys thought the interviews for their movie were crazy in the U.K., it’s even worse in the states. The interviewers are just bizarre and slightly verging on creepy. Some are outrageously flirty and others are a bit too handsy and just all sorts of weird. Harry doesn’t know how they come out of it alive but he’s glad they do.

They have a week break before they continue their ‘’Take me Home’’ tour, headlining their own shows in Australia. It won’t be their first time down under as they’d spent a couple of weeks there at a time during promo for their first single and first album as well as a couple of dates on their previous tour but this time, Harry hopes the change of scenery will be as good as before, if not for himself but for Louis and the boys as well.

He’s been worried about Louis an insane amount and yet the boy was quite professional, perhaps even giddy and all sorts of amused. Harry wonders what brought the change about considering his obvious anxiety about leaving London but he doesn’t ask, at least until they’re on board the plane going to Sydney.

They’re flying first class and Harry is slowly getting used to the fact that this will be more than just a once-in-a-while occurrence from now on. It’s surreal.

He’s sitting between Niall and Liam, whereas Zayn and Louis are sitting next to each other in the seats opposite them, seats that they’d flipped around because its first class and they can do it. There’s a small table between them, with bottles of mineral water and a bowl of expensive looking cashews that Niall is munching on and verging on devouring. Harry is busy looking at Louis and Zayn chat while Liam and Niall talk above his head. He can practically feel Niall’s spit landing on his left cheek from one side and Liam’s hand gestures from his other side.

Louis and Zayn are laughing as they look out the window, Louis pointing at something and Zayn pitching in with something amusing. They haven’t flown yet so they’re probably making up stories or some shit.

Things have been okay with him and Zayn, with the boys in general. Flying all over the place, sometimes in a group or in pairs or in threes most probably helped. Harry believes the boys understand the situation better, whether from giving Louis space or from just hanging out with him and talking things over. Harry knows the boys don’t know everything, at least not as much as he does (he is certain they don’t know the grimy details) but he knows they know a thing or two; just enough to know how to be the right amount of supportive.

He’s glad actually, more than a little bit grateful, that Louis is at least in some form not pushing them away. Even though he’s still playing a game of tug-of-war with his inner self, at least he doesn’t outright turn the conversation around when they ask about his well-being, but rather, he shows some hesitance now instead of completely backing off, thinks things over and gives a little something rather than hiding behind a smile and shrugging them off.

He never comes out and say, ‘’I need to talk’’ though, because he’s still Louis, still more concerned about them than himself. The boys learn not to lean unto him too much either and they don’t push him with a barrage of questions because they know going up into his space is not the way to go. Instead, when the time feels right, they don’t ignore it but simply wait for the opportunity to present itself.

 One time, Harry caught Louis and Niall in a waiting room somewhere in Florida sharing an earphone and listening to guitar instrumentals while talking in hushed voices over the sound of melodic strings. Harry is sure that Louis didn’t really bear his heart all out to Niall because one; Niall isn’t really one to handle intense heart-talks and two; he’s too much of an innocent little cherub for Louis to really talk openly with. But Harry is sure glad that Niall didn’t spend the time laughing his arse off and demanding funny stories but rather connecting with him through music, a genuine source of comfort for the both of them.

Another time Louis and Liam holed up in a hotel room having a Marvel movie marathon and when he and the boy joined them, Liam’s eyes were infinitely soft. Harry was never really mad at Liam back when he and Louis were broken-up and he can see why. Louis needs someone in his corner, someone other than Harry who is just way too invested, someone who will take his side and play fair and be there for him when he can’t. He can never fault Liam for playing the part so well.

As for Zayn, well, he cannot mention the many times he would find Louis and Zayn in a balcony, smoking or staring out at whatever views that’s in front of them, either sharing silence or hushed words. It makes him wonder if out of all of them, Zayn knows the most but then he remembers the pity and the way Louis was stiff with him back in the hotel after Louis’ discharge from the hospital all those months ago and he realizes that out of all of them, maybe Zayn is the one Louis surely puts more effort into holding back with than anyone else.

As for Harry, it’s been more of simply spending time together and trying to create some form of normalcy between them. Not that their relationship status has gone stagnant but more like they are both letting it fall where it may.

Like now, while Zayn is in the middle of an anecdote of some sort, Louis catches his eye and smiles at him from behind his fringe. Harry smiles back, cannot help his face from going soft. The seconds tick by and Harry doesn’t turn his eyes away, not until Louis’ smile turns bashful before he turns back to nod at what Zayn’s staying, a pink blush dusting his cheeks.

Harry feels accomplished.

 

Louis gets a call before their Adelaide show. He’d been feeling under the weather a bit, cranky and moody as well, ever since that unbelievable person pinched his bum when he’d gone surfing with Liam. Harry couldn’t believe a person could dare to be so invasive and out of line and no amount of comfort could get Louis out of his shakes all day that day.

But the call is just from Jay, asking about him since the incident hit the news and maybe like Harry, Jay knows how iffy Louis is about personal space from strangers. Its understadable and Harry is glad that Jay would be worried enought to warrant an international call but he knows its not the call Louis wants.

He’d been falling through the cracks since then, worried that almost more than two weeks had gone by and still Gary hasn’t called. All Harry could do was be there and not push it and he’s glad, really glad that without even asking, Louis would slip under his arm and cuddle with him during movie nights in their hotel room, surrounded by the boys and chips on the coffee table. Sometimes it’s Harry who would cuddle with him, knowing how much it makes Louis feel in control and not losing himself.

It’s how he finds out that Louis may not be feeling too well. He’d been coughing all day and now, with his head on his chest, he can feel the rumbles and the unsteady breathing.

He looks up at Louis from under the lad’s chin and asks, ‘’You feeling okay?’’

Louis looks at him, eyes blue, blue, blue. He looks a bit wary. ‘’Define okay.’’

They’re in their dressing room, the other three scattered all over the room whereas him and Louis are sat on the couch. Louis had been feeling under the weather all day and with that one awaited call from Gary nowhere in sight yet, Harry can only tread carefully and be as understanding as he can be.

‘’I don’t know. The shows have been tiring. Just asking if you’re feeling as crappy as I am,’’

‘’You don’t still have hay fever, do you?’’ Louis asks, blue eyes blazing with worry.

Harry chuckles. ‘’No, thank God. Don’t remind me.’’

Louis smiles softly. ‘’Sorry, I just did.’’

‘’It’s okay. I forgive you.’’

Louis pulls Harry closer and buries his nose in his mane. Harry can’t help but notice it as a sign of stress, of Louis seeking comfort by providing comfort for others. He tries to channel it by hugging him tighter in return.

‘’He hasn’t called yet and now I have this silly cough and I wonder if I’ll even be able to focus at all tonight.’’

It’s said in a whisper and with Louis’ grip on him, Harry tries to think of something to say without looking Louis straight in the eye.

‘’I’ve got some throat lozenge with me. Ask for them anytime during the show and I’ll get them.’’ He starts and it gets a rumbly chuckle out of Louis. ‘’As for Gary,’’ he pauses before he sits up and maneuvers their bodies so that Louis' head is lying on his chest instead and when Louis looks up at him rather than burrowing his face into his shirt, Harry knows that he knows that what he has to say, this particular part, is important. ‘’There’s no rush, okay? We’ve waited this long. You’ve waited this long. Nothing wrong with waiting some more, yeah?’’ Louis sighs but Harry knows he’s giving in. ‘’And besides, maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to give you snippets and half-arsed facts. Maybe it’s because this is just how he does his job. You’ve seen the man. This is probably him being completely thorough and professional. That’s good, don’t you think?’’

Louis processes his words and Harry can see it sink in.

‘’That makes sense, I guess.’’ Louis nods.

‘’Well, there you go.’’ Harry smiles.

Louis smiles back, all soft crinkles and rosy lips then dives in for a kiss on the cheek. They both freeze.

Louis pulls back slowly, lips grazing Harry’s hidden dimple before he sniffs and pulls back completely, averting his eyes.

‘’Sorry,’’ he mutters.

‘’No, that’s alright.’’ Harry whispers. Their faces are inches from each other. It’s been soft touches and warm gazes for so long that Harry is not sure if it’s all a lead-up to this, to just getting closer and closer until they’re no longer sure where the line is.

Louis sighs heavily and burrows back into Harry. There is frustration written all over his face, his brow furrowed with it.

‘’Lou…’’

‘’I want us to work so badly,’’ Louis whispers, insecure eyes darting back to Harry. ‘’I want it so much.’’

‘’But…’’ Harry has to say because he can sense it, like the word is just around the corner.

‘’But a relationship cannot be like this. I cannot be like this,’’

‘’Like what?’’

‘’Like depending on you all the time. I feel like excess baggage and that’s not fair to you.’’ His voice tears up.

But Harry knows better, knows better than to dive them in too fast, knows better than to commit themselves both to something they are not sure of and out of everything, he needs Louis to be sure of this, to be sure of him.

‘’You know that’s not true and I know I will just have to convince you of it over and over again so don’t think I agree with you when I say this.‘’ Harry braces himself. ‘’Perhaps like, would you maybe want to wait then? Or do you want to take it slow? I’ll only ever do what comforts you, okay? So, you decide.’’

‘’That’s not fair. You have to decide too.’’ Louis argues.

‘’And I am deciding that whatever comforts you comforts me.’’ He shrugs, feeling his face go soft. ‘’It’s a win-win, Lou. I'll wait forever, you know that.’’ He says gently and it’s all true. If Louis wants to wait until after he settles things with Gary or even after, he’ll wait too. If Louis decides that they remain friends, he’ll take it, as difficult as it may but he will and he won’t fight it. He knows better now.

‘’I don’t want to wait,’’ Louis says, eyes shining, voice shaky but brave. ‘’I love you, I don’t want to wait.’’ He cups Harry’s jaw tightly and pulls him in for a searing kiss.

And it’s the first kiss Louis has ever instigated, almost like a demand and Harry, too overwhelmed by it, gasps by the sheer force of it.

‘’Lou…’’ he says against his lips then breaths out when they separate.

Harry opens his eyes, unaware that he’d closed them and sees sincere blue staring back at him.

He’d wanted Louis to decide, to let him take the step but he didn’t expect this, not ever. Louis loves him. Louis means the world to him and just. He has to say those words back, but first he must ask him to be sure because that’s what matters. Harry won’t make the same mistakes twice, won’t let the butterflies in his chest sweep him away from Louis’ needs and distract him from what is more important for his well-being.

But Louis beats him to it.

‘’I’m not brave, Harry.’’ Louis starts, gasping a bit like it’s taking all his strength to get his words out, hand fisting at Harry’s shirt. ‘’I’m scared of a lot of things and I’ve been scared for what seems like a really long time and I doubt things are going to change any time soon. I wish that I wasn’t this way and I am trying to change that, I really am and maybe it took me finally wanting to search for the truth to be able to say this to you, that no matter what, out of every truth out there that I’m looking for, there is one truth I know I’ve found and will not doubt.’’ Louis tells him, a tear escaping his left eye. ‘’I love you. No matter what happens, I love you.’’

‘’God, I swear, love, nothing will happen,’’ Harry has to say back or else he’ll break down and cry. ‘’I love you, and I’m here. I love you back, okay? That’s the biggest truth in my life.’’

‘’I know, I know, Haz.’’ Louis pulls him in by the neck and kisses his forehead before he pulls back and brushes Harry’s hair back. ‘’I love you.’’

And Harry knows; the way he’d always known, that Louis is it, no take backs.

 


	46. Chapter 46

_''The show must go on,_  
_The show must go on_  
_Inside my heart is breaking_  
_My make-up may be flaking_  
_But my smile still stays on.''_

_-The show must go on, Queen_

 

 

Louis’ eyes get shinier as they come down from a last note and his cheeks flush as he looks away from Harry that night. On stage, before they sing ‘’over again’’, everything seems magnified ten folds and Harry cannot look away. Neither can Louis apparently. He goes smiling to the ground and his cheeks get rosier every time Harry returns one of his inconspicuous glances.

Harry knows his face is on the big screen now and he knows his eyes are on Louis and he blows out a breath, trying to stop himself from reaching out and plucking Louis from next to Niall so he can sit next to him instead.

It doesn’t go his way, of course and Harry watches on, heartbroken, as Louis’ voice breaks in front of their massive audience and graciously tries to sing along regardless, turning into a goofball so the fans don't know how embarrassed he is. Harry can’t seem to get a handle on himself, pausing midway through his singing as he watches Louis struggling to calm his coughs and yet smiling through it. Harry can only be grateful to Liam, who is quick to take over. Not to mention the fans, who are all cooing and awing at Louis, being as supportive as ever.

“It’s okay, Lou.” Harry wants to says, unsure of what he should do with a thousand pair of eyes on him.

Harry knows his face is on the big screen, watching the interaction between Louis and Niall, watching Louis closely and hoping his coughs don’t turn nastier.

Louis eyes’ are a bright blue as he faces away from the front row and looks back at Harry when they reach the end of the song and Harry can almost feel his breath hitching but he steadies on. He sings directly to Louis, glad that Niall is looking back at him too because he wouldn’t want the fans to read too much into a look so private, a look not meant to be shared. He doesn’t want people to intrude and see the truth of his undying affections for the boy he loves sitting just a few feet away. He tries to put it all in the eye contact, in the atoms filling the distance between them, hopes Louis can tell how much he wants to reach over and lightly traces over the skin beside his eyes, causing crinkles to appear and most importantly a smile. He wants to cup the sides of Louis’ throat and ease the soreness with his thumbs, lean in to press a few feather-light kisses up and down his Adam’s apple, trail up to his jaw and finally his lips, to sear one strong kiss that brings an immediate sense of comfort, before pulling away and leaning his forehead against his.

Harry ends his note with a huge applause from the crowd and Louis, still turned sideways so the fans cannot see his face, purses his lips, looking like he’s blowing out a controlled breath, blinking away emotions Harry wishes he didn’t have to hide behind. But Harry knows better now, knows how Louis holds his feelings in, not out of embarrassment or shame but out of protection, because they are dear to him and only his to hold.

Louis shoots Harry an apologetic smile (that makes Harry want to tell him not to feel that way) before turning back to the audience. Only then does Harry remember they still have a show to play.

 

Louis disappears after the show but not before accepting a hug from Harry and a kiss to his forehead.

‘’I’ll be back, okay?’’ he tells Harry, voice completely shot. They’re walking back to their dressing room, Louis under Harry’s arm, tucked into his side.

 “You really shouldn’t speak, love.’’ Harry chastises him. ‘’You sure you don’t want me to follow?’’

‘’I’ll just be in the toilet,’’ Lois chuckles but it’s all ragged. Still, his smile is just as blinding. ‘’I’ll be back in a mo.’’

‘’Fine,’’ Harry sighs, knows he’s being childish. Louis smiles again before he ducks out from under his arm and walks to the bathroom connected to their big dressing room.

Harry sits on the couch located in the middle of their dressing room where he finds the boys sprawled all over. He decides to change into cleaner clothes after sitting down for a few minutes, feeling too restless to sit still and wait for Louis. He grabs a bottle of water from the counter and drinks while scouring for some clothes to wear. He packs his and Louis’ things when he’s all done then pulls out his phone as they wait for their meet and greet. Mostly, he waits for Louis.

 

Meanwhile, Louis cleans up in the bathroom and dilly-dallies long enough to get his shit together before he gets his phone out. During a break in the show, he saw a missed call on his phone from none other than Gary and a man can only wait for so long and look as professional as ever before he loses his cool for such an awaited call.

Now though, now he wishes he had more to keep him occupied. For all that he’d been waiting for this call for what felt like years, he’s not sure he’s actually ready for it.

Still, the phone’s dialing now and leaning against the sink with the small of his back digging into the rim of it, he sucks in a deep breath as the phone connects.

‘’Hello?’’

‘’Mr. Tomlinson,’’ Gary’s voice connects. ‘’I mean, Louis.’’

‘’Yes, thank you for remembering,’’ Louis cannot help but smile but he is sure it looks more like a grimace from how nervous he is.

‘’Did you just wake up? Your voice doesn’t sound all too well.’’

‘’Nah, just came off a show. It happens.’’ Louis shrugs it off.

‘’Well, I have to apologize for taking too long but I do hope you remember the reasons behind it.’’

‘’Yeah, sort of.’’ Louis says guiltily.

‘’Louis, you do know you haven’t given me much.’’ Gary cuts through the chase. ‘’I know it has nothing to do with keeping things vague from your friend Harry and I do not blame you for not remembering much but surely you know there is only so much I can do in such a short time.’’

‘’Yes, I understand,’’ Louis nods, ignores the part where Harry was called his friend and focuses on the main thing. He knows most of his memories are distorted; too much fear and too much pain have been blended in and drenched so deeply into his past, obtaining some sort of clarity could not have been an easy task.

‘’Having said that, I will let you in on what I have found, and what I have found I believe has finally warranted this call necessary.’’

‘’Alright,’’ Louis swallows, dread pooling in his gut.

‘’Alright.’’ Gary takes a deep breathe. ‘’I tried looking for Leo through your mother.’’

Louis’ chest constricts and his brow furrows in confusion.

‘’My mother?’’

‘’Well, you told me she may not be dead and considering the situation of your dad and yours at the time, it would have been completely logical for the law to return your brother to his closest relative and that is none other than your mum.’’

‘’And? Is she alive?’’ Louis cannot believe he’s asking the question. He’d stopped wondering about her for so long, he sometimes barely remembers he has one.

‘’Sadly, it was a bit of a dead end. Meaning, I’m still looking into it but I don’t think I will find Leo with her or through her for that matter.’’

‘’But you think she is alive?’’

‘’Based on my ongoing investigations, I have to believe that she is most likely not dead.’’

Louis releases a shuddering breath, cannot be sure whether his lungs are collapsing or expanding. His hand holding the phone is shaking and he has to hold it with both hands and close his eyes for a second to get back his bearings.

‘’Mr. To…Louis, are you by yourself?’’ Gary says and he can hear him.

‘’No, I mean, right now I am but the boys are just a door away. I’m fine.’’ Louis says the last part quickly. He takes a deep short breathe and releases one hand off the phone before placing it on the rim of the sink behind him, trying to be steady.

‘’I’m sure you’re dandy, par for the sore throat and all, but are you sure you don’t want someone in the room with you?’’

‘’I’m sure,’’ Louis nods and takes another breath. It’s too soon to panic, too soon to let himself be overwhelmed.

‘’Well, so that’s one thing. Would you like me to continue?’’

‘’With searching for my mom?’’

‘’Yes.’’

“Um, sure.’’ Louis doesn’t really know what to say, cannot really think straight since he didn’t expect to start this much-awaited conversation like this. ‘’But Leo must be a priority.’’

‘’Yes, he is and about that,’’ Gary starts. ‘’It is ongoing but to step further ahead, I need to ask you some questions?’’

‘’Okay,’’ Louis says with caution.

‘’Do you know someone called Rupert Mason?’’ Gary asks, ever so direct.

Still, Louis’ eyes widen and his mouth opens into a frightened ‘’o’’. His knuckles turn ice white as his grip on the ceramic turns into steel. He’s not aware he’s shaking again, harder than before and that he’s maybe not breathing.

‘’Louis?’’

‘’Yes?’’ he’s breathless and he doesn’t want to cloud over, doesn’t want to disappear into a haze of fear. He shifts and changes his stance, glad that he hasn’t been paralyzed by terror.

He hasn’t heard that name in years and he’s not sure if he can stand talking about it. But, for Leo’s sake, he goes for it.

‘’You alright?’’

‘’That man.’’ Louis starts, lips trembling. ‘’Is a monster.’’

Louis recalls cold nights, a dark basement, scratches and bloody fingernails on paint-peeling walls, hollow faces that were far too young, destroyed and hiding under tables, drugs in dodgy alleyways and the never-ending feeling of being unwanted but wanted for the wrong and terrible means to an end before being discarded like nothing...he was nothing…

Then, like a bucket of cold water had been spilled directly on his head, a chill makes icicles of his veins as dread fills him up ten folds.

‘’Leo…Leo is not with him, is he?’’

‘’No, he’s not but. See, another way I looked into it, was to see if he were in the system. Don’t be shocked but I am not surprised they separated you.’’

‘’But why? We’re brothers. How is that in our favour?’’ Louis slides down the wall next to the sink, legs too shaky from the fluctuation of information Gary is throwing at him.

‘’It isn’t but it is in the favor of the system. Most adoption agencies do not prefer to promote more than one child to any willing person ready to take one in. Most parents can only handle one child at a time or just one really. It just makes for losing bargains and heartbreaks so,’’

‘’Right,’’ Louis wants to cry.

‘’So, as I was saying, I tried looking for him in the foster care system, checked out the names of all the housing centers you were placed in to see if he were registered in any, see if I can find a trace to follow, using your old name.’’

‘’Okay,’’ Louis says carefully. ‘’I’m assuming none of your actions are all that legal.’’

‘’Why would you assume that?'' Gary chuckles.

''I don't know, it sounds unreal.'' Louis remembers the many failed attempts he had at trying to find the truth and now, to have this man doing it like it's almost a walk in the park, is quite strange.

''Look, I am a private investigator, emphasis on the private and this is an ongoing investigation regarding a delicate matter. It's normal that I proceed with caution. Besides, when you have connections, a twist of an arm here and there isn’t really that big of a deal. And once again, you need this to be kept private, yes?’’

‘’Yes, absolutely, people cannot find out…’’ Louis rushes.

‘’Then, they won’t. I assure you; it’s part of the job.’’ Gary says.

‘’Right.’’ Louis says, blinking open tired eyes and trying to focus. ‘’You said you used my name?’’

‘’Your old name, yes. The last place that housed you before you moved into the Tomlinson's care was with Rupert. Now, you can't have been the only boy housed by him or the others so I thought maybe I'd find Leo in the list of other kids they housed.’’

‘’There’s so many of them though,’’ Louis mutters.

‘’Yes, I know.’’ Gary says kindly. ‘’I found a lot of information these past few weeks; but what's interesting is that after Rupert, any traces of you have disappeared. Like, your adoption file for instance. If you haven't told me that you're with Jay, I'd think you're still in the system.’’

''Is it because I changed my name?'' Louis asks.

''Well, maybe but...'' Gary says in a pondering way. ''Something just doesn't match up. I mean, even a change of name ought to be registered somewhere. I know,'' Gary pauses here, like he wants to proceed with more caution. ''From asking around, that Rupert's household was not a pleasant place to be in and that you didn't leave unscathed. Yet, there are no medical records of you after leaving his place, and the adoption papers are also somehow missing from record.''

‘’Are you saying someone took my file after Jay took me in?’’ This is bad; this is really bad, if a reporter has his file or worse, a pap or someone in management, he’s doomed.

‘’I’m saying I’m going to take a bit longer to expand on my investigation.’’

‘’But my file...’’

‘’I’ve asked some friends to track it down and they have crossed out big flashy-named reporters and magazine outlets with having that type of information. Trust me, if they had it, you’d be all over the headlines by now.’’

‘’Maybe it’s just a matter of time,’’ God, he’d do anything for some anxiety pills right now but Harry took them away and only gives him his prescribed dose, much to his dismay and secretly, his fond exasperation. He has to settle for scratching his side.

‘’Trust me, this should be the least of your worries.’’ Gary assures him.

Louis feels a bit relieved regardless of his simmering anxiety. He hasn’t been given much but at least Gary has finally kept him up to date.

‘’You’re looking into this from every angle, aren’t you?’’ Louis has to say.

‘’I am.’’

‘’Well, is there anything else you’ve got?’’

‘’I actually have got a lot more to say but I believe it needs to be done in person.’’

‘’That sounds…ominous.’’ Louis really doesn’t think he can take a plane to London in the middle of tour again.

‘’Well, based on what I have found so far, I believe that long before you come back, I will have everything ready. However, I am not sure you want to hear all that I have found so far.’’

‘’You mean there’s more?’’

‘’Louis, I’m not sure you want to hear it over the phone.’’

‘’Tell me,’’ Louis insists, nails digging into his ribs.

‘’Fine.’’ Gary sighs, resigned. ‘’Your dad, he’s been released on parole.’’

Louis stills, literally goes numb, his nails’ sharpness against his skin long forgotten.

‘’What?’’ he says hoarsely, a lump of fear lodged in his throat.

‘’Look, I didn’t expect it to happen but when I was searching for who might possibly have your file, who might possibly be asking questions about you, I stumbled upon news of his release. He’s,’’ Gary pauses. ‘’Louis, he’s been asking around. I don’t think he knows who you are but he’s looking…’’

Louis gasps out a silent scream and afraid of it turning real, he cups his mouth with his palm, frightened tears already leaking over the back of his hand.

‘’N-No,’’ he stutters. ‘’He can’t find me. He can’t…’’

‘’Look, trust me, he’s far from close. Besides, how can he ever guess that you’re his son? It’s been years and you’re in a completely different place from whatever he’s expecting. Louis, listen to me,’’ Gary’s voice turns stern when Louis cries out. ‘’You need to be with someone right now and I cannot and will not disclose any further information that will hurt you.’’

‘’God, I have to go.’’ Louis mutters before he hangs up and turns into a shriveled ball right there on the bathroom floor.


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: panic attack, dissociation from reality symptoms

_''Broke down, thought that I would drown_   
_Hope that I'd be found, 'fore I hit the ground_   
_Some days out the corner of my eye, hey_   
_Saw you weeping, saw you creeping, saw you sneaking_   
_In the shadows long the fear so strong_   
_Saw you out the corner of my eye''_

_-Sia, reaper_

 

 

‘’Lou? Babe, you’ve been there for a while. It’s time for some meet and greet.’’

Harry is on the other side of the door. Louis isn’t aware of how much time has passed but Harry says a while. He knows Harry. And he knows if he doesn’t get up and pretend like all is fine, then Harry will worry.

He untangles his limbs, face sore from how hard he’d been pressing his cheek against his knees. He gets up shaking, takes one look at himself in the mirror and wonders how much time he has to compose himself enough to leave the bathroom.

His nose is red, and his eyes are drenched and his body is in tremors for reasons he cannot fathom.

 _You know why,_ a thought niggles at him. _Your dad is coming after you. He’s out there looking for you._

He watches a tear spill from his reflection and realizes that it’s slipping off his face. He feels disconnected and sad and lost, and his life doesn’t really hold meaning the way it did just a while before, when he was up there on stage and singing with his boys. It felt like ages ago.

‘’Lou?’’

He scrubs his face when he hears his name being called again and walks towards the door. He takes a deep breath and tries to steady himself. But he does not try to untangle himself from the waves of sadness when they hit him at the realization of what Gary had told him, because no matter, they won't go away and he is tired of fighting.

And yeah, he walks out of there and faces Harry’s unsure smile with a fake, reassuring one, accepts his hug and his maneuvering so that he is pulled under his arm as they walk out of the dressing room to the throngs of fans awaiting them and that’s all fine, he can do reassuring and hide that he is sad, hide that his past, the one he had tried so hard to separate from his reality, the one he had tried so hard to keep at a distance good enough for him to handle, has now caught up to him.

He can do hopeless and smile through it. He will work and pose and take pictures and put one foot in front of the other until the same sadness starts coming less and less and it’s nothing but a dull ache in the background, waiting for him to let his guard down again before it consumes him.

But this whole thing where he has to keep fighting to hide his nightmares, unable to unleash them, where he feels like his body isn’t his anymore, has him wishing he could run and never come back.

 

Harry looks on worriedly, and like instinct, like a switch programmed in his brain to shut off his problems, he turns a blinding smile to the boy as he hugs a sobbing fan and even offers a thumb up. His dad is looking for him. His mom may be alive. Leo. He smiles at the girl and takes a selfie with her.

 

He wonders if his eyes are dead. He wonders if Harry can see right through him. He wonders if he can scream and wonders if anybody will notice, including himself.

 

In the van, the boys are quiet. He doesn’t know how he got to the van, like there was a time lapse. One minute, he was signing an autograph, the next, he is sitting by the window and watching the city of Adelaide blur past them.

 

‘’Lou, talk to me.’’ He registers a voice by his ear and an arm around his shoulders. Was that arm always there? How long was Harry sitting next to him?

 

He turns his head and a quiet gasp escapes his lips. Did he forget to breathe or something? Harry’s worried green eyes bring him back to life a little bit and his heart just aches.

 

‘’You’re spacing out on me.’’ Harry tells him before he grabs his jaw and peers at him closely. ‘’Tell me what’s wrong.’’

 

Louis’ tears are going to spill over Harry’s fingertips and he cannot allow that. Instead, he tries not to lunge at him as he twists in his seat and hugs Harry’s waist with all his might, head fermented on his chest and tucked under his chin.

 

‘’Lou…’’ Harry trails off before he hugs him back, one hand spanning the small of his back and the other on his knee.

 

‘’Just hug me, Haz.’’ Louis’ voice croaks out. ‘’Just hug me, okay?’’

Harry is silent for a while but eventually does as he’s asked.

‘’Okay.’’

He caresses Louis as much as he can, and it works a bit as Louis tries to get his thoughts in order, tries not to panic at the thought that soon enough, they’ll be back in London, too close to where the truth awaits, to where his reality will change for the worse…

 

‘’Lou, no, talk to me, you’re hyperventilating.’’

He chokes a bit when Harry caresses the back of his hair, unaware that his breathing had gone unsteady, that his arms had turned into a vice around Harry.

‘’Harry, what’s going on?’’ Liam asks from somewhere in the front.

‘’I don’t know, I think he’s sick. Lou?’’

His face is lifted up gently, and he finds himself staring up at Harry from where his face is now against his shoulder, escaped tears betraying him.

‘’Do you feel sick?’’ Harry asks. ‘’Do you want us to stop the van?’’

‘’Here, I’ll open the window. Maybe he needs some fresh air.’’ Niall says.

They don’t normally open the windows, lest fans see them and Louis panics. He doesn’t want people to see him like this.

‘’No,’’ the word is ripped out of him and he re-buries his face into Harry’s flesh with unseeing, wide eyes.

‘’Lou, breathe, baby, just breathe ok?’’

He sees someone move and feels a caress on his arm. His boys are trying to comfort him. Harry is telling him to breathe. Why can’t he do what he’s told?

‘’Lou, it’s going to be okay, yeah?’’ Zayn says. ‘’You’re with us. You’ll be fine.’’

‘’Is he having a panic attack?’’ Niall asks.

‘’I don’t know.’’ Harry says frantically. ‘’Lou?’’

 The car jerks to a stop amidst their clamoring over calming him down and even though there is a group of fans outside the hotel, Harry does not let go of him. Louis is glad because he can feel his knees shaking and about to buckle if not for Harry’s strong hold on him. He keeps his hands around Harry’s waist, simply because he forgot how to get them to function properly and let go.

 Another time lapse happens. One moment, he’s blinking his eyes from the flash of a camera, another, the camera is being confiscated for the surely unwanted photo and before he knows it, they’re in the lift going up to their hotel room.

 Louis is not aware that they had stopped moving when Harry places him on the bed, keeping him upright but holding his hips and kneeling in front of him. Louis’ legs are closed so his knees bump into Harry’s chest and Louis does not know why he notices that but didn’t notice how they got up to their room, how he did not hear the clink of a key card or whether it’s a key or a key card for that matter, how the other boys or Paul are no longer with them.

 ‘’Look at me.’’ Harry instructs him, voice soft but firm. Louis’s fingers clench on the duvet and it’s just as soft as Harry’s voice.

 ‘’Babe, I’m asking you to look at me. Please.’’

Louis thought he was already looking but hearing the desperation in Harry’s voice made him realize he wasn’t. He moves his head then, and stares back at Harry, at big green eyes.

‘’Lou, you look scared out of your mind.’’ Harry tells him. ‘’I’m not hurting you, am I?’’

Louis registers a press on his ankles, since Harry has withdrawn his hands from his hips.

Louis shakes his head. He wants to tell Harry everything and end it by saying he’ll be fine but he knows he won’t be and that’s why he can’t talk.

‘’Okay, that’s good.’’ Harry says quietly, almost himself. ‘’I…I love you.’’

It’s a last resort, Louis thinks, when he hears those words but he accepts them with a nod.

‘’Yeah, just thought I’d let you know,’’ Harry stares at him like he wishes Louis was responding back verbally but glad that he’s responding in some form anyway. ‘’It’s just you and me now, you know. Do you want to talk to me?’’

He always wants to talk to him, Louis thinks but his voice clogs up. He remembers Gary’s phone call and his lips tremble and without thinking about it, the words come out of him,

‘’I’m scared.’’

It takes a second for it to click but then he sees it in Harry’s eyes, the shift from confused to determined. Before he knows it, Harry is wrapping his arms around his shoulders and hugging him fiercely.

‘’I’m here. Whatever it is, I’ll face it with you, hell, I’ll protect you from whatever it is, love, I don’t care if it’s a bullet, Louis. I’m here.’’

Louis cries into his shoulder silently, before he hauls Harry to the bed and they lie down facing each other. But Louis wants to disappear into Harry’s warm embrace, wants to forget what he is too scared to face, let alone talk about, so he hides into Harry’s warm chest, so glad that Harry does not loosen his hold on him and falls asleep.

 

He’s not sure he’s awake but there’s light streaming in from outside, and Harry is not with him. He feels so warm though and promptly turns the pillow over to its cooler side.

Right as he’s comfortable again, he hears Harry’s voice and Paul’s. They’re talking about him, saying something about a bad fever and rest, medicine and tomorrow morning. Harry’s voice is strong when he says,

‘’I won’t leave him and that is final.’’

‘’Harry, this isn’t just sore throat. You could catch it. His temperature’s at…’’

‘’I will not leave him.’’

The conversation ends after those five enunciated words and Louis falls back asleep, too tired to say thank you when Harry slips back into the room after shutting off the lights.

 

The next morning, Harry wakes up and finds that Louis is not in the bed next to him. He sits up quickly and strains to hear if Louis is in the bathroom but realizes the hotel room is empty. He’s about to call out Louis’ name when he catches sight of the note on the bedside table.

Picking it up, he reads Louis’ messy scrawl,

‘’Paul booked me a solo trip to Fiji to recover, says it will get me ready for the show after tomorrow, so no need to worry, I’ll be back as good as new. Love, Louis’’

 

Harry sits back against the headboard and wonders if Louis just did what he does best again, run away rather than spill the truth so that he can come back hiding behind a suit of armor. Harry doesn't understand what prompted last night's strange behavior but he'll be damned to let it go.

Right now, he doesn’t bother with going to the gym as he had planned or calling room service as he had hoped to make Louis feel better.

He just goes back to sleep and tries to swallow his breaking heart for breakfast.


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: suicide attempt though not done on purpose

_''My happy little pill_  
_Take me away_  
_Dry my eyes_  
_Bring colour to my skies_  
_My sweet little pill_  
_Tame my hunger_  
_Light within_  
_Numb my skin_  
  
_Like a rock I float_  
_Sweat and conversations seep into my bones_  
_Four walls are not enough_  
_I'll take a dip into the unknown, unknown_  
  
_Oh, glazed eyes, empty hearts''_

_Troye Siven - happy little pill_

 

 

He feels like he’s under water and it’s not a new feeling, actually, to mute every sound around him, including his own breathing.

The room is dark and that’s okay, he doesn’t really care about the day lights outside or the life bustling outside the four walls he’s confined in. The drapes are shut, the lights turned off and there’s nothing better than the haze he’s engulfed in, nothing better than the drowning feeling that’s silencing his screaming thoughts.

 It wasn’t that hard to find his anxiety pills among Harry’s things once he actively decides to look for them, not hard to convince Paul to let him go on a recovery trip since the band’s ability to perform is top priority when they’re right smack in the middle of the tour. And it’s nice, to finally get his way for once, to get what he asks for, to feel free for a while before it all comes crashing down. Sooner or later, he will come crashing down, like a plane oozing smoke from the sky.

 Nightmares play behind his eyelids like a movie and every time one pops, he pops a pill with it, so that at least it’s silent, like those old black and white movies when audio wasn’t yet in the making. Old memories resurface, fragments fitting together piece by piece while fragments of his mind go shattering across the floor in return. The past rebuilds itself and in return, his present collapses.

 Gone are Harry’s loving arms and warmth. The pills take over instead, and for every memory he remembers and every nightmare he tries to shut up, he finds himself obliterating more and more. There are more time lapses now. He’s not aware of where he is half the time. It took him two days to realize that he’d showered in his clothes and that he’d slept in the bath tub. Another time, he couldn’t remember for the life of him why he’s on the floor near the bed and why he’s not wearing anything. He’s so confused.

 

It’s not until he’s knocking back a bottle of pills that he realizes he’s finished his stash in just two and half days and that he hasn’t eaten all that much in between. Oh well, nap time now.

 

‘’Sir, we’ve been calling the room number but Mr. Tomlinson is not picking up,’’ the hotel receptionist tells Paul, who fumes at the man and flexes his bicep.

‘’I already told you, I’m his tour manager and I am entitled to get his key and pick him up myself.’’ Paul repeats himself for the umpteenth time.

‘’May I also remind you, sir, that there are fans and reporters who have said those exact same words…’’

‘’Listen, mate, I’m old enough to be your father and I'm no reporter,’’ Paul interrupts, face going red with fury. ‘’Check the booking, you will find it registered under his name and paid for from my company’s account, modest management, for whom I work for,’’ Paul produces his documents and waits another agonizing five minutes, before finally the staff finds him credible and allow him a copy of Louis’ room key.

‘’Thank you,’’ Paul says icily, grabbing the key and marching towards the lifts.

He’d been trying to contact Louis for ages when the boy didn’t show up at the airport. The band has a performance tonight and Louis was supposed to be back two hours ago. Paul had no choice but to jet to Fiji and pick up the lad himself.

On his way up, he couldn’t help but be nervous about the lad, hoping that he doesn’t need more time to recover, hoping that he’d rested well enough, not to mention the fact that a certain curly-haired lad had made him promise to call as soon as he’s got Louis with him. Well, it won’t be long now, he thinks.

He arrives at the designated floor and marches towards the room Louis’ checked into. With the key in hand, he doesn’t bother to knock, just shoves it into the lock and opens the door.

‘’Lou?’’ he calls out, squinting in the dark. It’s 10 am and yet there is no sign that the room had been lived in, par for the strong smell of alcohol. Dread pools in his stomach as he marches towards the bedroom, barging through the open door.

‘’Louis?’’

Again, no sign of the lad par for the untouched duffle bag. Paul was starting to worry now, like properly worry, as he approaches the bathroom with less impatience and more trepidation.

‘’Lad…’’ Paul opens the bathroom door and is met by darkness. He hears running water though and wonders if Louis’ in the shower.

‘’Louis, it’s Paul.’’ He calls out while searching for the switch, hand moving across the wall. He doesn’t know why Louis would shower with the lights off and is about to ask if it’s the hotel room that is malfunctioned when his hand finds the switch. ‘’Did…?’’

The breath is knocked out of him, the earth shaking under his feet when the lights illuminate the scene in front of him. His wide eyes land on a naked body, six, seven or eight mini bottles of booze scattered across the tiles and a couple of empty bottle of pills lying around his scattered limbs.

‘’Louis!’’

Paul drops heavily on his knees and picks Louis' haphazard form off the cold tiles. His face is pale, lips blue and mouth foaming.

‘’Lad, what did you do?’’ Paul shouts as he shakes him but to no response so he yells. ‘’What did you do???”

Paul keeps Louis in one arm as he picks up one of the pill bottles. It’s anxiety pills and it has Louis’ name on it and it’s completely and utterly empty and there are two of them, one another aside from the one in his hand.

‘’Christ, Louis!’’ Paul shakes the lad, free hand gripping the hair at the back of his neck to push his face up, trying to get him to react or something.

Paul is not one to be shaken up easily but in all his career with pop stars, this seriously never happened on his watch, ever.

‘’Oh my God,’’ he whispers as he feels a fluttering beat on Louis neck before he traces his hand down Louis’ protruding ribs. Par from boxer shorts, Louis’ completely naked and cold and he can see everything, see how thin he is, how he wasn’t like this before, how this gaunt body and bony form is not the Louis he first met two years ago. Hand pausing on Louis’ stomach and clock ticking, he takes matters into his own hands.

Moving on his knees, he carries Louis over to the toilet, needing no extra strength to heft the lad up. Maneuvering Louis unto his knees with a beefy hand around his stomach, Paul gets Louis’ head rested on his shoulder and then, with his free hand, shoves his fingers into Louis’ mouth and presses on his stomach at the same time.

‘’C’mon lad, c’mon, get it all out, c’mon.’’ he repeats the pressure several times, tickling the back of Louis’ throat while keeping a vice pressure on his stomach at the same time, hoping that this works so he doesn’t have to call a hospital and turn Louis’ life into a media-circus frenzy.

After a few agonizing, terrifying moments, Louis starts to gag, much to Paul’s relief.

‘’That’s it, lad, c’mon.’’ one more punch and  he feels liquid in his hand. Quickly, he holds the back of Louis’ head by the hair as he bends him over to throw up the chemicals into the toilet, hand around his waist keeping him from losing his balance and at the same time, keeping the pressure on his stomach so that he throws it all out.

Louis starts to fight as he regains consciousness though, that while throwing up, his hands get to work, trying to dislodge the grip on his hair and on his stomach but Paul is stronger.

‘’No, don’t fight me, c’mon Lou, get that shit out, c’mon.’’ Paul barks at him and doesn’t relent in his grip even as Louis starts to cry when his struggling doesn’t work.

It’s ugly and messy and Paul starts crying when Louis starts fighting back with all his might, shouting and punching Paul’s sides weakly while coughing up a storm.

When he hears him gagging, heaving and sobbing out hoarsely to, ‘’let me go, let me go,’’ does he relent, slumping back and sitting down flat on the tiled floor with Louis between his arms.

‘’Shh, I got you, stop it, I got you,’’ Paul says as Louis continues to struggle, muttering, ‘’no, don’t touch me,’’ but he’s lost all his steam, shaking and shivering violently. He would’ve fallen over if Paul wasn’t there to catch him and seat him up straight. Louis slumps back to his chest, hands going limp, heaving and crying, ‘’Don’t wanna go back, don’t wanna, please…’’ and Paul just sits there and does his best to comfort him. But Louis just cries, and his cries turn to ugly bruised wails as he forgets that struggling is useless yet he tries anyways. Paul lets him tire himself out until there’s nothing left except their joint heavy breathing. Only then, he lets the situation sink in, wondering what on earth has he been blind to this whole time.

 

Paul cleans him up when he’s sure that Louis’ passed out. He flushes the toilet and carries the shivering lad to the bedroom then tucks him in tight.

He washes his hands before he starts cleaning up the bathroom floor, mopping it from remnants of alcohol and vomit. He throws away the booze bottles but tucks away the medicine bottles in his pocket, not wanting to risk housecleaning running to the press. He turns off the running water before he turns off the lights and shuts the door.

Louis’ feverish when he checks but otherwise, completely knocked out. Paul pulls up a chair and waits. There’s still time left to the plane he’d booked for them both. Till then, he waits.

When Louis wakes up, he coughs like he can’t breathe and Paul immediately sits him up and hands him a glass of water. Louis can barely hold it up so Paul holds it up for him until it’s all chugged down.

While Louis gets his breathing back, Paul doesn’t break the silence. He waits, not wanting to make the first move.

Louis opens his eyes slowly and when they land on Paul, he looks utterly surprised. ‘’Paul?’’

‘’Christ, you scared the hell out of me,’’ Paul blurts out before unthinkingly pulling Louis towards him and crushing him in a hug.

‘’How could you do that to yourself?’’ he asks in a haze of fatherly concern, shaking the lad. ‘’How could you hurt yourself like that, huh? Do you think Harry would like this? Do ya?’’

He doesn’t register Louis crying until he feels wetness soaking his shirt and a sob filtering the small space between them.

‘’Louis…’’

‘’I’m sorry,’’ Louis sobs out, clutching at Paul and shaking in his arms. The wetness on his shoulder increases but he doesn’t pull away. He hauls the lad towards him so he can hug him properly and let the boy cry his heart out. He doesn’t try to fathom the tangled words coming out of Louis’ lips but he understands fear and feels that that is what Louis is going through right now. But fear of what, he doesn’t know. What he knows is that Louis needs comfort.

‘’Lad, it’s okay, I got it you, it’s alright,’’ he rubs Louis’ back as assuring as he can and waits out the panic attack until Louis’ sobs turn to hiccups.

 

Louis is the one to pull back, eyes red and face gaunt, shaking non-stop since Paul found him. Louis seems reluctant now, eyes down and face ashamed. Paul leaves him to it in favor of finding clothes for Louis to wear.

‘’Here,’’ he says, pulling a t-shirt over Louis’ head then a jumper and a pair of sweats and socks, dressing him like he’d do his own kids.

‘’Thank you,’’ Louis croaks, voice completely shot. Paul sighs as he sits back on his heels. His knees are aching and for all the times he's been touring with the boys, for once he is admitting to himself that he is tired and feeling his age.

‘’Should we talk about this?’’ he asks. ‘’Because I’m seriously torn between pitying you and wanting to bash your head for overdosing like that, none one of which is an option I think you’d like, yeah?’’

Louis cowers, pulling his sleeves over his hand and looking down on his fingers. His eyes well up and Paul chooses pity then.

‘’Louis, how could you do that? Why didn’t you talk to anybody about whatever it is this is?’’ he doesn’t want to reprimand, he really doesn’t but maybe it’s a fatherly instinct. Maybe he cares too much. All he knows is that he is actually scared but under no circumstances can he show it when this boy needs all the strength he could get.

‘’I’m sorry, I just…I wasn't aware, like I didn't even know that...I just...I have a lot of stuff going on, that’s all.’’ Louis ends with a weak shrug. Paul sighs, he should have known that it wasn’t that easy.

‘’What am I to do with you?’’ he asks as he rubs a hand down his face.

‘’Please don’t tell Harry,’’

Paul looks up to find Louis already looking at him, ashen and still shaking.

‘’Don’t ask me that. He’ll know something’s up, anyways.’’ Paul stands up and looks at the time.

‘’Please, just don’t.’’ Louis’ lower lip wobbles. His voice is shot and Paul wonders how on earth he will sing tonight. ‘’I can’t explain everything to you. Hell, I can barely understand it myself, but please know that if you tell him, he’ll drive himself crazy and…’’

‘’Stop talking, your voice is ruined enough as it is,’’ Paul interrupts and Louis clams up, voice hitching. Paul sighs; he doesn’t understand what’s going on and he sure as well doesn’t want to hurt Louis, especially with how sensitive the situation is right now.

‘’Look, I’m not getting between you guys, okay? That’s not my job. What’s on the line now is this, what just happened not too long ago, which you apparently don't remember how it happened but the reason behind it you know yet you're not telling me about.’’ Louis shakes his head here, eyes averted. ‘’Louis, I want you to be completely aware that you are my responsibility and that for the record, you almost died on me, are you aware of that?’’ he says sternly. Louis’ tears spill and his head bows further.

‘’Louis, what is going on?’’ Paul sits down on the chair, trying to be within Louis’ eye-level. ‘’This is not you, this is…’’

‘’I can’t go back to London, I can’t, please don’t make me.’’ Louis cries into his palms, like he wants to hide.

‘’What are you talking about? I…’’ just then his phone rings and Paul, having no choice, pulls up his phone and sees it’s Terry, the driver. He sighs, hating that their time is up.

He looks back at Louis and sees him hitching, face lined with tears.

‘’C’mon lad, best you clean up, you’ve still got a show to do.’’

Louis just nods his head and obeys and Paul watches him with hawk eyes as Louis brushes his teeth then gathers his toiletries. He opens up Louis’ duffle bag as Louis tucks away his mobile and tooth brush then pulls out his shades before he follows Paul to the door. He watches as Louis puts on his vans and then they’re off to the reception.

Paul signs off the papers while Louis waits behind him. They don’t talk even in the car and even in the plane, except when Paul orders Louis a warm lemonade, Louis mutters a small, ‘’thank you’’ before the silence continues.

 

It’s maddening as it is slightly frightening to see Louis so quiet and timid. He’s not used to it and it’s making him off-centered. He doesn’t like it.

‘’Louis,’’ he says, one hand on the lad’s knee as they stop in front of the venue of tonight’s performance.

Louis hasn’t taken off his shades since they left Fiji and Paul can’t read his eyes or know what he’s feeling. All he knows, is that the shaking hasn’t disappeared.

‘’I’m going to get you a therapist’s number to call, whenever you’re ready to talk but I also want you to know, that you can talk to me about anything, alright?’’

Louis doesn’t do or say anything for a moment then he nods.

‘’I know,’’ he whispers.

‘’Can I ask you something?’’ Paul ventures as he withdraws his hand, earning another nod. ‘’Does Harry know? At least a bit of what you’re going through?’’

‘’A bit,’’ Louis hesitates before he answers. Paul sighs; he wants to tell Louis that Harry is just a kid and that…

‘’Which is why I can’t tell him what happened,’’ Louis says, head lifting up a bit. ‘’I’m not his problem to fix.’’

Paul doesn’t disagree but he can’t let that be the end of it.

‘’I won’t tell him but I want you to actively seek help. Think about him while you keep that in mind, yeah?’’

Louis nods and sniffs, ‘’yeah,’’

 There’s nothing more to say it seems so Paul turns to step out of the car when Louis’ voice stops him.

‘’Paul,’’

‘’Yes, lad?’’

‘’Thank you,’’ Louis says quietly. ‘’I wouldn’t know what would have happened if you…weren’t there on time…I guess.’’

‘’Thank god, you won’t ever have to find out,’’ Paul says firmly, earning a soft, sad smile from Louis.

As he leaves the car and walks Louis to the venue, Paul wonders why the dread in his chest hasn’t disappeared since he'd arrived at Louis' hotel room.


	49. Chapter 49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are no excuses for my long absence, but when your baby brother dies at the age of 22 for no apparent reason other than medical neglect, well, life loses all meaning after that. 
> 
> anyway, here's the latest chapter. I suppose you will need to read up on some past chapters to remember the details but anyways, yeah, give it a go.

_“Bran thought about it. 'Can a man still be brave if he's afraid?'_  
_'That is the only time a man can be brave,' his father told him.”_

-George R.R. Martin, A game of thrones  
_  
_

 

Louis walks into the venue, his movements slow, like he’s under water. He sees everyone else around him flash by, like he’s lagging behind and everyone else is moving forward; camera men zooming by, handlers with ear pieces shouting orders, familiar faces waving at him in passing. A woman with a clip board stops in front of him and says something that seems important so he nods automatically before she walks away.

He keeps walking, counting the thumps of his still beating heart and it hits him then, Paul’s words. He’d almost died but looking around him, he realizes at that moment, that life doesn’t stop, that dead or not, it is going to go on without him, that even if his father finds him, even if he never sees Leo again, life will move on and his feeling, his pain or whatever, will never be of concern to anyone, not in this moment, not in the next minute or the next hour of his life. He is but a tiny dot in the grand scheme of things and nothing he says or does would ever matter…

‘’Bro,’’ someone’s hugging him tight, arms strong and assuring. He should hug back, or say something but he is stuck with the thought that it won’t matter, nothing matters anymore. Life is relentless and he should just let himself topple over if he is unable to keep up. He finds himself strangely okay with that.

‘’Lou, you ok?’’ soft hands hold his face and a pair of eyes comes into his vision, peering at him worriedly. He nods.

‘’Am ok,’’ he manages to utter but Liam’s eyes don’t leave his, even as he calls out to someone behind him, ‘’Ni, go get Harry, now.’’

‘’Louis, did you take anything?’’ Liam whispers and Louis blinks. He’s slowly coming to his senses, perhaps due to the physical touch or his closeness to his boys, he’s not sure but he deems the question easily understandable and so he shakes his head.

‘’No, am just tired,’’ he manages a tilt to his lips, not as forced out as his answer.

‘’Louis!’’

Liam lets go of his face and turns around just in time for Harry to barrel right into him and sweep him into a tight hug. This time Louis hugs back because, goodness’ sakes, he’s missed him like a phantom limb.

It’s a bit staggering when Louis takes a deep breath and feels a little bit more alive than when he’d entered the venue a few minutes ago. He doesn’t know how Harry does it or whether it is simply the familiarity but fucking literally, it’s like his very organs are coming alive and remembering to function by the warmth of this boy. His boy.

‘’Haz,’’ and the name comes out as a whisper, like a prayer in the night.

‘’My love,’’ Harry whispers back then chuckles wetly, embarrassed from the term of endearment. Louis just closes his eyes and let’s himself feel a little even if he doesn’t feel healed at all. For some reason, it feels like a goodbye, hugging Harry like this, backstage with people zooming around them, a show about to start. He knows this moment is going to end soon, that other moments will replace it, moments he won’t like, moments that will succumb to the very marrows of his bones so he hugs back tightly and tries to savor it as best as he could.

‘’You okay, babe?’’ Harry doesn’t pull back, like he can sense that Louis wouldn’t want that.

‘’Just hold me, Haz.’’ Louis whispers back and he really shouldn’t be surprised when Harry just nods and does as he asks.

They stay that way until they absolutely have to separate to put in their ear pieces and get ready to go out there to wow a crowd of a thousand or more.

Louis reluctantly lets go and smiles up at Harry’s pouty face. He does what he is told and puts his ear piece in, follows through with all the steps that have been ingrained in him to do without a stumble and he wonders how even performing has now become a routine thing for him to do.

Harry doesn’t let go of him though, keeps his arms around him, constantly touching whenever possible, like he’s worried Louis will float away from him. If only he knows how right he is to feel that way, if he truly is, Louis thinks.

Out there on stage, it’s harder than usual to cover up the concrete fact that he almost died in a hotel room, all alone, with no one that loves him, with no one that he loves holding his hand, or that he is so not himself without one of the boys checking on him, like they’re reminding him to put on a brave face or something.

But they don’t understand. Not even Harry does. They can’t save him from the faces out there looking at him hold a mic up to his lips and listening to his voice that sounds like a wail in his head, screaming for someone to just fucking save him from the monster out there looking for him.

He feels paper thin, bones on display and at a lull in the show, he sees himself on the big screen and wonders what the crowd is thinking. He looks so sick, tired and almost overwhelmed, like as if he’d never been on stage before or something.

Louis had never really had stage fright before but this is borderline claustrophobia, looking at the crowd and feeling their eyes closing in on him, seeing remnants of a drunken smile in some faces all up in his face and deathly glares from others penetrating his eye sockets and before he knows it, he’s hyperventilating so bad, he drops the mic as he rushes off stage.

He cowers behind some equipment boxes and squeezes his eyes shut. He feels squeamish and sweaty and he’s crying and breathing so hard. He wants to end his thoughts. He wants to wipe Gary’s words from his memory about his father looking for him, out there somewhere, like a predator wanting to pounce on his prey.

‘’Louis, look at me. Babe, look at me…’’

Someone is pulling him from the wall he’s trying to blend into and the next thing he knows, he’s huddled against a sweaty chest and a strong lap, being hugged within an inch of his life.

Harry raises his chin but he can’t open his eyes or get his teeth to stop chattering or his breathing to stop racing.

‘’Louis, listen to me, you’re having a panic attack,’’ Louis whine at that, whines at the hand on his cheek that is getting wet from his fat tears. He feels his chest folding in on him, like a collapsed building. God, he hopes this is the end.

‘’I need you to breathe, just like me, okay? C’mon, babe, just breathe,’’ Harry picks up his hand and places it on his chest and Louis tries because Harry is coaxing him to do it, because his chest is beating hard just like him, worried for him but trying anyways.

Louis finds the strength to try back by opening his eyes and staring right into Harry’s distraught ones. They breathe together until finally they match, Louis’ still raggedy and Harry trying not to cry.

‘’My father’s looking for me,’’ Louis blurts out, shocking a harsh exhale out of his lips, wondering why that came out.

‘’What?’’ Harry’s brow furrows and that’s when Louis realizes they’re backstage, in a dark corner and there are people around them giving them space but getting fidgety, as if trying to coax them back unto stage, as if they interrupted a meeting in which they were in the middle of discussing something important.

Shit, the show.

‘’No, Lou, wait,’’ Harry says when Louis struggles to get up and in the end is only able to when Harry gets his hands under his armpit and pulls him up before he leans him against the wall. Louis closes his eyes and tries to maintain his steady breathing, hands gripping Harry’s shoulders to keep himself from sliding back down.

‘’Listen, Lou, you don’t have to finish the show…’’ Harry starts and God, how long has it been since they’ve been off stage? This can’t be happening.

‘’No,’’ Louis forces the word out and his eyes open. ‘’I won’t disappoint these people.’’

Harry just stares at him, emotions sifting through his eyes and Louis hopes he understands, hopes that he sees how much Louis needs this temporary distraction before his world crashes down on him again.

‘’Okay, but you don’t have to sing and you’re going to tell me everything later, okay? Promise me,’’ Harry says softly, like they have all the time in the world.

Louis knows he’s at his wit’s end, knows this show won’t be their best ever, knows that the residues of his panic attack are still clinging to him, but Harry is holding unto him still, letting himself be dragged through Louis’ mess alongside him and the fierce look in his eyes shows that he’s not backing down at all.

Louis nods tiredly, a few stray tears falling and hugs Harry, arms tight around his neck.

‘’I don’t know what I’d do without you.’’ He whispers.

Harry kisses his neck and whispers, ‘’me neither,’’ much to Louis’ disbelief.

 

Videos of Louis from tonight’s show say that Louis ran off to get some cough drops for his sour throat and that the mic fell from his hand because he was in a hurry to get to it before the next song starts. Their management team confirms this and articles are written to support the mishap coverage.

Louis sighs as he locks his phone and rests his head back against the pillows. They are in a hotel room and Harry is in the shower.

Louis truly didn’t have to sing much tonight, grateful to the boys for covering for him. He did a lot of sitting down, only standing when absolutely necessary and when they got off stage before the encore, Harry forced him to eat something because apparently he hadn’t stopped shaking since his mini break down.

Louis did eat, under Harry’ supervision and the concern of the others but truthfully, he only did it because he didn’t want to pass out in front of the crowd. That would have just been an utter disaster.

The boys are outside the bedroom, watching a movie although Louis is sure they aren’t. On the bus on the way over to their hotel, Louis just collapsed in Harry’s arms and slept all the way through. 

He’d woken up begrudgingly and under Harry’s pleas, took a shower to try and relax. He does feel relaxed now but he knows it won’t be long, especially after Paul announced to them all before bidding them good night, that they are flying back to London early morning. As if that wasn’t the root of all his problems.

‘’Hey,’’

Louis looks up and sees Harry approaching him, hair wet and dripping all over the towel slung across his shoulder. They don’t say anything until Harry sits down beside him on the bed and holds one of his hands. Even then, they don’t speak and Harry sighs before he shuffles until he is sitting criss-crossed between Louis’ legs and holding both of his hands gently.

‘’Talk to me,’’ he says, emerald eyes boring into his. Too tired to be stubborn or maybe too tired to carry this burden any longer, Louis relays to Harry Gary’s phone call as well as what happened in the hotel when Paul found him.

Harry takes it like a champ, the only sign that he is affected is the deathly grip he has on Louis hands and when he wipes his eyes twice before blowing off a harsh exhale.

‘’I didn’t do it on purpose,’’ Louis tells him, ‘’I’m just so scared of when he’ll find me…’’

‘’If he’ll find you, which he won’t,’’ Harry interrupts sternly.

‘’But what if he does?’’ Louis asks. ‘’No one in our team knows how he looks like, no one knows about him except Gary and he’s not…’’

‘’He’s not what? Capable of protecting you?’’

‘’Haz, he’s a private investigator, he’s got a case going on right now.’’

‘’But you are more important,’’ Harry says desperately.

‘’Haz…’’

‘’Look, word won’t get out. As soon as we hit London, we file a restraining order and…’’

‘’On what grounds? For looking for me? Might as well lock up all our fans in that case for stalking us,’’ Louis says, exasperated.

‘’Lou, that’s low,’’ Harry says softly, afraid to hurt Louis’ feelings.

‘’No, I…you know I don’t mean it that way, I just,’’ Louis reclines back, eyes up at the ceiling, feeling Harry’s thumb slide across the back of his hand, soothing him.

‘’I think you should talk to Gary, see what he’ll say,’’ Harry says eventually.

‘’Yeah, you’re right,’’ Louis nods for lack of anything better to say. He doesn’t really know what will happen and that scares him more than anything but maybe Gary will know what to do and tell them how to do it.

They sit quietly, Louis’ eyes on the ceiling and Harry’s thumb still tracing patterns on his skin until the sound from the tellie outside their bedroom stops and they hear a door shut.

‘’I think the boys are off,’’ Harry breaks the silence, and when Louis looks back, he’s nodding off where he’s sat but stubbornly refusing to rest and leave Louis. It honestly pulls at his heart a little.

‘’Come here, babe.’’ Louis tugs at his hand twice and moves him the way he wants, which ends with Harry sprawled half on top of him, with his head on his chest and his leg on his thigh. The physical closeness does not stifle him like he’d expected but then again, maybe it’s because he’s too tired to think about it. Harry however, is cautious, and stays above the blankets, only pulling the duvet to cover himself up.

Louis turns off the lights and listens to Harry drift off, unable to sleep.


	50. Chapter 50

_“It is a strange thing, but when you are dreading something, and would give anything to slow down time, it has a disobliging habit of speeding up.”_

_-J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_   
  


 

Harry wakes up to his alarm and he gets slightly off of Louis to turn it off. However, upon doing a double take, he sees that Louis’ eyes are wide open, breathe hitching and shallow.

He isn’t really surprised. It’s Louis’ second panic attack, third if you count the one at the show, hundred, if you count all the others he’s had since the end of his childhood.

It’s a rough morning to say the least.

After he’s calmed him down, he helps Louis into the shower and stays with him in the bathroom, afraid he might fall off.

It’s like dealing with a zombie, Harry cannot help but sadly think. His boyfriend is a shell of himself and he can’t do anything but be there for him as best as he can. He dries him up with a towel, eyes careful and guarded not to let them wander and betray Louis’ trust when he is at his most vulnerable. He dresses him up, sits him down for breakfast, stops another panic attack when he leaves him alone to wheel the food cart in from the door, feeds him when his hands shake too much, lets him cry it out, gives him his medicine and nothing more than the one pill no matter how hard Louis cries and begs.

Louis tires himself out completely and it’s barely even morning. They leave their hotel with Louis leaning heavily against him. The boys take their bags from him and he promises to explain later. He ignores Zayn’s muttered, _always later, yeah right_ as they proceed to the bus that will drive them to the airport.

Louis snuggles up to him and Harry knows it’s an apology. All Harry cares about though is that when Louis looks up at him from where they’re lying down on the couch together, he sees clarity in those eyes that have been nothing but cloudy since the night before.

‘’You here with me?’’ he cannot help but ask, brushing Louis’ fringe to the side before cupping his cheek.

‘’I should be asking you that,’’ Louis croaks back. ‘’Aren’t you tired yet?’’

Harry shakes his head but he finally gets what Louis means, reached a conclusion actually since the morning Louis left for Fiji and knowing now what had actually happened while he was away.

Love is not enough to conquer all fears, he’d concluded but it doesn’t make him love Louis any less.

‘’I am tired, but not of you. Still want you to get help.’’ Harry whispers.

Louis blinks tiredly at him and closes his eyes.

‘’Yeah,’’

‘’Will you? Seek help?’’

Louis nods but Harry doesn’t know if he means it.

They arrive at the airport to a frenzy of fans and if it weren’t for Paul, Louis would have stumbled over more than once. Harry is not worried; he knows their press team will write up some shit about Louis being sleepy and the fans being too overwhelming and loud at 7 in the morning.

When they reach the waiting area, Harry gets Louis back in his arms and hums to him to keep him awake. Once they hit the seats in the plane though, Louis passes out cold. This time, it’s Harry who does not sleep.

 

For the first time in a long time, landing in London does not bring a sense of comfort, only a sense of dread. He sees it in the way he clutches at Louis’ hand, sees it in the way Louis tries to keep his hyperventilating at bay when they meet the hoard of cameras outside Heathrow, hits him when Harry brings him back from another panic attack in the car that fetches them, much more intense and longer than the others.

‘’This is getting out of hand,’’ Zayn says, as they all watch Louis succumb back to a fitful sleep, drained and exhausted in Harry’s arms.

Harry is silent, too tired to say anything, saving all his strength to holding Louis securely.

‘’Won’t you tell us?’’ Zayn asks him. ‘’This can’t be normal.’’

Looking back at him, seeing his eyes beg for some reprieve, seeing Liam and Niall look at him patiently, dying to know but keeping silent, Harry breaks down and spills.

He realizes he can’t do it alone, needs someone to be in the know with him, realizes he’s a teenager and he is facing something bigger and more frightening than an audition all those years ago.

It doesn’t feel any better though but it does feel like he’s not alone anymore either.

What adds to it though, is that now, the boys are now just as scared as he is.

 

They stay over at their flat and for that Harry is grateful. He carries Louis to his bed and leaves him there to take a shower. Minutes later, he’s conked out in his own room, leaving the boys to fend for themselves.

He has an idea of what Louis dreams out, what nightmare wakes him up, what makes him panic and it frightens him a lot, knowing that it could happen, that if Louis sees his father in the flesh, his world will crash all over again.

Harry cannot let Louis’ nightmares win and take his boy away, which is probably why when he wakes up, he goes to Louis’ room and sleeps besides him, worried about what goes on behind his eyelids, what his mind conjures up when he is asleep and vulnerable.

Dinner is an awkward affair; mostly because Louis is not himself, and the boys are trying so hard to be chill about it. In the end, their presence bears fruit though. After Louis takes his pill and he visibly relaxes when it kicks in, he starts to actually acknowledge the boys. That’s how Harry finds him, after he’s done the dishes, playing Fifa with Niall on the couch, a small smile on his face, Liam and Zayn on their phones.

Harry knows it’s not the end of it, but at this point, he’ll take anything.

 

‘’I want to call Gary now,’’ Louis tells him and Harry looks up from where he was brushing his teeth.

Louis is leaning against the bathroom door, looking at him and their eyes meet in the mirror, Harry’s toothbrush still stuck in his mouth.

Harry finishes up quickly before he turns his attention to Louis.

‘’You want me with you?’’ he asks.

Louis reaches out a hand and pulls him in. He hugs Harry around the waist and Harry automatically hugs back.

There is very little that comforts him, Harry realizes but this is probably one of the most that works so Harry just hugs him back and they stay that way for who knows how long.

Harry rubs a hand up and down his back, presses kisses to his hairline and just soaks up in him. Nothing comforts him more than having Louis in his arms, solid and compact, anchored to him.

Eventually, Louis pulls back and Harry follows him to his bedroom. Harry reaches out and holds his hand, twining their fingers together. Louis doesn’t say anything but a small smile graces his face before he picks up the phone and starts dialing, his face turning dreadful. Harry just squeezes his hand.

‘’Hello?’’ Louis says before pulling the phone away and putting Gary on loudspeaker.

‘’Hey, Louis, welcome back to London,’’ Gary says warily, like he knows it’s not really all that pleasant for Louis.

‘’Yeah,’’ Louis just says, for lack of something better to say.

‘’Hey Gary, Harry here,’’ Harry says, just to make sure all is in the clear.

‘’Oh hey Harry, alright, lad?’’

‘’Alright, I guess.’’

‘’Um, Gary,’’ Louis clears his throat. ‘’Anything umm…?’’

‘’Yeah, Louis, I…’’ Gary sighs and he sounds tired beyond his years. ‘’Listen, when can I see you? I can work around your schedule so just name a time and a day.’’

‘’Right,’’ Louis clears his throat again then looks at Harry.

‘’Well, um, we have ten shows at the O2 starting three days from now.’’ Harry says. ‘’Perhaps after the last show, like the day after, because all our family will be here throughout the whole thing so after they leave would definitely be preferable and…’’

‘’The morning after then,’’ Gary interrupts gently, aware of the boys’ nerves. ‘’Time and place?’’

‘’Our flat,’’ Louis answers. ‘’Come by for breakfast, if that sound okay for you?’’

‘’Will 10 am do?’’

‘’Yeah, will do.’’ Harry answers.

‘’Gary, is it…?’’ Louis blurts out, squeezing Harry’s hand. ‘’Is it good news? You don’t sound too enthusiastic.’’

‘’It’s…well, it’s something,’’ Gary sighs again. ‘’You boys have a good show, I will see you soon.’’

‘’Well, why don’t you come before the first show? Or like now?’’ Louis invites, but he sounds desperate and almost whiny.

‘’Am not in London, lad and I wish, I really do but I think you will just be too nervous if I show up right before a show. Look, ‘’ he interrupts when Louis was about to jump in, ‘’I think it’s better this way. I will see you both soon, alright? Just take care and have a great show, yeah?’’

‘’Yeah, Gary thank you,’’ Harry says because Louis ups and leaves the room and Harry doesn’t stop him.

He hangs up with Gary and finds Louis in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, knuckles white from the way he’s clutching the counter.

Harry just hugs him from behind and they stay that way until Louis relaxes back against him.

‘’I love you,’’ Harry tells him and this time, he wishes with his entire heart that it were enough.

Louis turns around eventually and instead of pushing Harry away like he’d expected, he wraps his arms around Harry’s neck and kisses him.

It’s sweet, almost reminiscent of that day on the balcony, only this time, when Harry kisses back, he’s not persuasive about it. No, he’s as gentle as he’d ever been, kisses Louis’ lips in the sweetest way possible, and savors every second of it.

When they part, Louis exhales, ‘’I love you too,’’ and he means it.


	51. Chapter 51

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> heed all the warnings in this chapter. it's pretty graphic and kinda the crux of the whole story. you've been warned.
> 
> chapter inspired by a fic called ''A little bit delirious'' by By skiptothelu

  _“There is no comfort anywhere for anyone who dreads to go home.”_

_-Laura Ingalls Wilder, Little Town on the Prairie_

 

It’s the last of their ten shows at the London’s O2 Arena and as much as he hates it, it’s the pills that help him get through it. He hates himself even more by the fact that he’d snuck up behind Harry’s back and took more than he should almost every night and now he regrets it so bad because the bottle is empty and there’s a car waiting for them to get a move on.

Frustrated, he leaves the bathroom after throwing up his meager breakfast and hopes he can make it through the day.

Harry greets him at the door with a kiss and it’s as good a distraction as any. He stays glued to Harry in the car, playing with his fingers while Harry rubs his back. He’s agitated and he knows that Harry knows.

‘’Hey love, everything is going to be okay.’’ Harry whispers and he knows it has to do with the fact that when Harry called Gary this morning to confirm his visit tomorrow, he’d also asked about Louis’ father and Gary had told them that the man is in London seeking work so he’d obviously given up on looking for Louis. Not really that comforting in Louis’ opinion because it all seems too presumptuous to think that the man had just given up. Garry had assured him that he has men keeping watch and even though he’d asked Gary to look into that restraining order, he still feels no easiness whatsoever.

‘’I hope so,’’ Louis says, already tired. It’s been a fitful two weeks to say the least and right now, he feels hungry and tired, like he’s running at 10% battery power.

Harry keeps up his ministrations, kissing the top of his head and rubbing his back, his ever present safety blanket.

The show is a good distraction and unlike the others, he’s more overwhelmed by it, more intimidated by the lack of food in his body and the pill’s effect to numb him to it. He powers through it though, simply because he will be seeing Gary tomorrow and it will all be over, all this dread and uneasiness will soon dissolve and it’s all that’s keeping him sane at this point.

His shakiness is not so apparent except to Harry, who tries his best to comfort him as much as he could with so many eyes watching their every move. Louis can admit that he tries harder just for him.

‘’Tell me I can do this,’’ Louis begs when they are backstage and the show is almost over. They’re in the bathroom where Louis had run to dry heave, the uneasiness in his stomach knotting up into a bigger ball of dread. Harry had followed him in and coached him through it, bringing him to his lap on the floor, back to chest, his big hand on his heart, like he’s trying to stop it from escaping. Louis leans his head back against his shoulder while Harry whispers to his ear words of comfort and love.

‘’You can, baby, I know you can.’’ Harry is quick to answer. ‘’It’s almost over, you can do this.’’ Harry squeezes him in, holding his waist with one hand and pressing his palm on his chest. Louis’ still breathing harshly and Harry picks up his hand and brings it to his lips, kissing his knuckles and pulling him in closer by another inch, till there is zero space between them. Louis wants to fuse himself to his bones and hide in his marrow and never leave his bloodstream.

 

They start their encore late but eventually finish, bow down and leave to a crowd of screaming fans asking for more. But Louis has no more to give, not tonight. It’s funny, the things that go on behind the curtains, the secrets that go on behind every smile and wave he gave tonight, wondering if people have even a single clue about the hell he’s been through. If secrets were tangible, he’d be out there with blood in his gums and teeth rotting in the spotlight, tattered shirt and blood pouring from the never-healing wounds on his back. That would be the real him, on display and he wonders if the small world they have conquered would still be in this arena if the ugly truth was known.

 

Backstage, they’re shaking hands with fans and taking pictures with children, laughing and hugging and taking selfies, like it’s another day at the office. Louis gives himself a bit of reprieve because children will always have a soft spot in his heart and he welcomes the distraction, even if it makes a place in his heart smart a little.

It’s when a reporter approaches Paul and tells them they have an interview that things start to go hay wire.

They are excused from the fans but only for ten minutes in order to do the interview before they continue. They are only a small group of fans left with their parents and uncles and aunts, having won some sort of competition and they are escorted by someone to give them a tour of the arena and the entire backstage area. While that happens, the boys go to freshen up for the interview.

It’s a quick and done deal, not really different from any backstage interview they’ve done before and then they are asked to wait until the fans are done with their tour.

Louis excuses himself to a bathroom while the boys muck around, Liam and Niall running back to the stage to do some snapchatting, Harry and Zayn hunting for food, Louis saying he’ll catch up with them in the dressing room so they can pack up their things. All their families are already waiting for them in the hotel room, getting dressed up to go to the after party Modest is throwing for them.

He’s walking back from the bathroom when he gets a call from Stan and he finds himself picking up. The reception is shit so he walks about a little until he finds an empty hallway in the second floor, with a window looking out back behind the arena. It’s a clear cold night, nothing out of the ordinary for an average London weather.

‘’Listen, Lou, something I want to tell you,’’ Stan says after they’re done with pleasantries.

‘’Yeah? Is everything alright?’’

‘’Yeah, all’s well. Just that, someone’s been by asking for you. He didn’t say much and he didn’t look like a fan either like…’’

‘’What do you mean asking about me? Like a kid or something?’’ Louis asks, his interest piqued.

‘’Well, no, it was like a middle-aged man. He was asking about where you were, like the band and stuff like that, said he wanted to get tickets for his daughter so I told him about the show but it got weird when he started asking about you and how old you were and stuff like that. Seemed harmless if you ask me, since all the stuff he asked about are plastered all over the internet.’’

Louis’ sense of dread that was hidden in all the commotion of fan meets and greets started to wash over him again.

‘’Did he say what his name was?’’ he asked Stan cautiously and maybe if he wasn’t too frazzled, he would have noticed the footsteps coming up behind him and slowly approaching.

‘’There you are,’’

You know that moment when you cross the street and a car comes blazing at you and you just stare at the headlights, like you’re waiting for the car to stop or turn or anything since you’re too afraid to move lest the car hits you as soon as you take a step so you’re caught in the middle of the road unable to decide what to do and the car keeps coming.

That’s what Louis felt when he heard that voice, caught between one breath and another.

He hangs up on Stan and turns only to see his old man standing at the end of the hall, blocking the stairs, wearing a security uniform.

So, this is the job he got, he can’t help but think.

‘’Lou, my boy,’’ Troy smiles a watery one, crinkles by his eyes just like the ones Louis has but they look deep seated, just like the rest of his features, too deep blue eyes, too deep hollows underneath his cheekbones.

He’s grown old since the last time Louis saw him and just like the last time Louis saw him, he feels sick.

‘’Stay away from me,’’ he demands shakily and takes a step back.

‘’Why? It’s been so long. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.’’ Troy says gently, in awe. ‘’I’ve been following up on your career these past few months. I’m so proud of you.’’

‘’Please,’’ Just looking at him is like watching his nightmares come alive, materializing from ashes.

‘’C’mon kid. That’s not how you greet your old man,’’ Troy says and there’s a lingering hint of harshness in his tone now and Louis’ eyes go wide when he starts to approach, heavy footsteps shaking the ground. Louis shakes his head, unable to get a word out. He feels rooted to the spot. He can’t move, his eyes remain wide as his father reaches him. He watches in silent horror as hands come over Louis’ shoulders, hugging him.

The terror Louis feels is indescribable, building up like a clogged sink. He remembers everything about their last encounter, his nightmares lingering, what he did to Leo. Even Harry couldn’t fix everything that had happened, and Harry has already fixed so much about him, has already done so much.

The squeak that leaves his mouth at being pressed against his old man does not deter the man at all, rather it makes him press even harder until Louis is shaking so fucking bad, his knees buckle and he lands so hard he could almost be sure his knees are busted.

His chest is rising and falling so rapidly as he looks up, leaning against the heel of his hands and sees his father looking down on him from where his smile has turned into a sterile grin.

‘’Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment, son?’’

‘’I’m not your son,’’ Louis stutters out, sliding back ever so slightly, eyeing the stairs and hopes he could make a run for it. ‘’Not anymore,’’

‘’No, you still are,’’ Troy chuckles. ‘’Because it’s true right? What they’re saying about you?’’

Louis cries out as Troy suddenly grips his hair, yanking his head. Troy is now crouched in front of him, staring at him with a pair of dead eyes, all masks off. Louis is crying now, he’s properly crying. ‘’You’re gay, aren’t you? Doing it with that Harry kid.’’

‘’No, that’s not true.’’ He’s not denying their relationship; it’s just that he and Harry have never gone beyond kissing that he loves, a very undesirable hand job that he hated and certainly a frightening blow job experience that he never wants a repeat of. And he forgave Harry for it; it’s water under the bridge now.

‘’Oh c’mon. I’m cool with it. Like father, like son, you know?’’

‘’I’m nothing like you,’’ Louis growls but cowers right after, his hair getting tugged harshly in the process. ‘’You’re scum.’’

Troy grins and then an ear-splitting sound resounds in the hallway. It’s only after his cheek smarts that Louis realized that his father just back-handed him. He feels a boot pressing on his chest and he cries when his back gets pressed against the floor, his father towering over him.

‘’You still need someone to teach you manners, don’t you?’’ Troy sighs, like he’s put off. He’s taking his neck tie off and Louis won’t play his games. He pushes his father’s leg away and goes for the stairs.

Troy is faster and much less frazzled than he is, gets Louis’ neck in a lock and pushes him up against the wall. Louis starts screaming, thrashing like a mad man but it only lasts a second before his father is punching his side with two, three fists before throwing him down like a rag doll.

Louis wheezes as he holds unto his side, turning to his stomach and clutching where he’d been punched.

‘’Picked up boxing during jail time. Comes in handy once in a while. They said it helps with my anger problems,’’ Troy says, all matter-of fact like. ‘’Helped get me off the booze and all.’’

‘’Help!’’ Louis wheezes, mouth moving against the ground, trying to get his knees to shuffle away. Instead he feels his legs getting pulled out and he cries out as Troy pulls his hands back, clutches them in one big palm and starts tying them up with his neck tie.

‘’Easy there, kiddo, daddy’s gonna teach you a lesson. Daddy’s gonna make it all better. You owe me this you know, you owe me so much,’’ he knees Louis again when he shudders violently and starts thrashing again, his face reddening as he fights to breathe through the grasp on his wrists.

‘’No,’’ Louis cries as he tries to get his legs moving, searching for a way to fight him off. Troy chuckles above him and Louis can’t handle it. He feels himself breaking apart one piece at a time, and he can’t fight the feeling that his father’s brute strength comes from years of pent up vengeance for being sent to prison on account of his underage son. He feels like he deserves exactly what’s coming to him, for sending his father to jail, for not being quiet about it like he was supposed to. All those feelings are coming back like a storm brewing. Troy’s so much stronger and Louis’ just weak, nerves and an empty stomach not helping his case. Louis wants to get away, but he’s much smaller, unable to.

‘’No, what, you slut?’’ Troy shouts, punching Louis again in the side. ‘’You owe me a every single pound from what you’re earning, you owe me a fuck load of compensation for the amount of years I spent in there while you went frolicking off with some queer. I made you the way you are, you wouldn’t fucking lick his dick if I didn’t turn you into a fucking dick whore!’’

‘’Please, please, don’t do this! I’m sorry, I’ll pay anything you want, I’ll pay…’’ Louis’ ramble is cut off when something gags his mouth and he realizes his dad had taken off his belt and shut him up with it.

He cries into the gag, his body still moving against the body straddling him but Troy is quick to force him still, pressing his palm against the back of his neck, his skin grazing the ground. Louis’ eyes grow wide and he openly screams against the leather as he feels the hand on the back of his skinny jeans. He’s struggling with them, but Louis knows he’s trying to pull them down and no, just no. He can’t go through this again.

Louis’ body jerks as he fights against the body above him, about to do things to him that was once familiar to him, is now horrifying. He tries to think of Harry, how gentle he is, how warm, how sweet. Troy is tearing that all down with his touches and he is not gentle and he is not soft, not like he ever was, whispering more vile and angry threats in his ears. His breathing is rough and ragged, and Louis’ back in that small little bedroom, terrified as the man's wet breaths scatter across the back of his neck.

 He keeps fighting, refusing to give in, even as he feels the side of his mouth split open from how hard he’s biting into the leather, his wrists chaffing from the necktie binding him. Every time his father lifts his hips up, he squabbles and kicks his legs out, uncaring for his nails scratching against his hips, uncaring of the bruises forming there until Troy lets out a sick, frustrated growl and gets up so swiftly, it gives Louis whiplash before he slams his foot into Louis’ stomach.

‘’Fucking piece of shit! Remember when you used to just fucking take it? Huh? Don’t like that anymore? Wanna play it rough? I’ll show you rough!’’

Each kick is worse than the first, until Louis’ mouth fills with liquid pouring from the sides of the belt digging into his skin, drooling from his lips. He tries to push himself off the ground, but his body hurts so bad, he doesn’t know how much more he can take.

Troy moves back behind him when Louis stops moving and he hardly fights back now, only moaning at the scrape of his skin against the ground. He reaches for Louis’ trousers again and Louis’ body seizes when they get unbuttoned, unzipped and then pulled down. It's too much and he's fighting against the pain again but the touch on his backside make his efforts all worthless. Troy grabs around Louis’ middle, roughly pulling his naked ass higher in the air and Louis instantly begins to whimper out scream after scream, the pain so strong in his stomach he can hardly manage a squeak.

 Louis tries to move his legs, to wiggle away, but his abdomen aches with every movement, his arms ache, his head aches.

It hurts so bad, he barely registers Troy’s hands on his butt cheeks, like he’s smearing him with his finger prints. Louis immediately begins to cry all over again,

Louis can hear the groans of approval, the press of rough denim against his behind and he knows how this is going to end. He tries to kick his legs out, but Troy's got him trapped in his hold. Every push gets a threatening squeeze around his neck and Louis fears what he'll do if he pushes him too far.

Louis tries to kick again, but suddenly he feels the breach, the intrusion of one, two, three dry fingers, literally tearing him apart inside out. He tries to muffle his screams, pride temporarily coming in to play but Louis can't hold back as he fights the invasion. Troy keeps pumping them in and out, moaning in approval about how tight he is, just the way he remembers, just the way he likes. When he pulls his fingers out, there's no relief, only the knowledge that it's not over. His shoulders shake with sobs, his aching stomach clenching with terror.

He remembers Harry beckoning him to go search for some snacks, something to eat, suddenly feeling as though it was many days ago, instead of just an hour or less. Louis wishes he'd gone to him when he'd called his name, Louis wishes he'd rushed into his arms, put his need for some time alone aside. He wishes he hadn’t accepted Stan’s phone call. So many regrets and it just can’t be too late.

Pushing away all the pain, he kicks his legs, pushing with all his might against the tight hold on his hip and neck. He manages to force Troy to loosen his grip, and squirms out of his grasp.

Louis scrabbles forward, slumping with each move. He tries to turn around, maybe get a chance at kicking Troy in the face but before he knows it, Troy does it for him, pulls him unto his back by the shoulder then punching him in the face. His vision blurs in an instant before another punch lands and he feels something crack. Louis cries out in surprise, but then it's only searing pain. He hears the echo of his head bouncing against the ground and then he can only see darkness as thick liquid drips down into one of his eyes.

He’s not turned over as he expected, but it shocks him when Troy throws away his trousers and pants, getting rid of his shoes even. He is least prepared for it and Louis can't fight, his body feels light, as though he's in a dream, trapped without the ability to wake up. He feels the press of his knees against his chest, his eyes looking up at the ceiling. The pressure rises and this time it's not fingers penetrating him but something thicker, and Troy groans, moaning loudly as he presses harder. The push is what wakes him, the breach stronger and he's delirious with agony.

 Louis shakes and trembles, his body fighting, as Troy presses farther inside, not going slow. As if that wasn’t enough, he spread Louis’ legs apart and clutches with both hands at his neck, forcing Louis’ eyes to look into his, groaning nonsensical words, spit flying all over the face. Louis doesn't want to hear them, he wants to die, escape the unbearable agony of his father tearing him right down through his middle. He feels the liquid seeping down his skin and Louis goes crazy, his veins bulging against his neck, his hands behind his back scraping and fighting, desperate to be free, vocal cords wheezing out pleas to stop.

‘’You look just like Leo when he died,’’ Troy laughs above him, and reaches one hand down, picking up Louis’ dick and tightening his grip, while punching his way through Louis’ hole with harsh thrusts. ‘’Did you know I suffocated him to death? Yeah, that’s what the cops said all those years ago, not that I cared. They said it was an accident anyway and it was, believe me, I was too drunk to do something like that on purpose, you know? Best thing about jail time darling is that they got you both off my back, got me clean off the booze, turned me into a good man worthy of a parole. So forgiving don’t you think? But you, nu uh uh,’’ he thrusts harder and Louis groans; limp as the pain his words bring register in his head. Everything hurts and he can’t keep track of it all, and Louis feels so overwhelmed with the truth he wants to die a thousand times. His body falls still as the movements increase, becoming ragged, unable to cope any longer.

‘’You are incapable of forgiving your old man, aren’t you?” he whispers above Louis and doesn’t utter another word as he finishes, coming inside him so hard, it seems like he could go on forever. Louis’ body falls against the ground as Troy finally releases his chokehold on his neck, pulling his dick out from his body. Instead of the intense pain, it throbs with all the hurt he’d just endured. Louis closes his eyes, unable to keep them open and he hears Troy and he waits, knowing this is the time when he’s about to die.

Instead he feels the neck tie falling from his hands, feels the belt being released from his mouth. When he opens his eyes, Troy is straddling him; his belt and neck tie back in place, placing his discarded clothes and shoes on his chest. Troy holds his cheek and bends down, kisses him full on the lips, slipping his tongue when Louis starts to struggle, gripping his face with both hands as he forces his tongue even further in. Louis whimpers and everything hurts.

‘’God I’ve missed you,’’ Troy says when he releases him; spit flying across Louis’ face. ‘’You’ve always been the best fuck I’ve ever had. That hasn’t changed one bit.’’ He kisses Louis on his forehead and looks back at him, gently almost. ‘’I’ve taken your number from your expensive cell phone, babe and you’re gonna hear from me, okay? Do your daddy a favor and help him out, yeah? Just like old times and remember,’’ he presses his face all up in Louis’ until his lips are moving against his. ‘’Not a word yeah? Lest you end up like Leo six feet under. Poor kid didn’t stand a chance. But oh well, c’est la vie and all that.’’ Troy chuckles as he pets Louis' cheek twice before he gets up and walks way without a second glance back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cant believe it, 9 chapters to go!


End file.
